


Little Sandwiches

by TheSprout



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Family, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Feelings, Fluffy, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Holidays, Humor, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Relationship(s), Romance, Slice of Life, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5834533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSprout/pseuds/TheSprout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short story collection about the Brief family and their everyday not so normal life! The themes are utterly random, the stories are not related in any way. You will mainly find family and humor, but also sometimes angst and hurt/comfort depending on the chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The dinner had gone exceptionally well and had left everyone in a good mood, to Bulma's great relief. Trunks was home for Thanksgiving, as he did every year ever since he had moved out. He had left his bedroom at the Capsule Corps' house six years before to go to college and lived now in his own apartment about five hundred miles away from his parents. He came back quite often during the holidays so he could spend time with his little sister who was still in school. This time was however slightly different: he had not come alone. Trunks had already introduced several girls to his family since he started going out, and was not shy about it. Some of them had run away the second they had seen his father, but he didn't imagine his life without his family in case of conflict between them and his future spouse.

He had been dating since he was fifteen and never really had difficulties getting the girl he wanted. Back in high school, he and Goten had found out that women liked muscles and protection, and they had decided to try out for the sport team. They would do just enough on the field to attract feminine attention, without showing too much of their super abilities, and it worked liked a charm. Trunks especially was even confident he could become fat and ugly and still get laid for his famous name. Out of self-respect however, he had tried to stay away from the kind of girl who would accept that. Anyway, he didn't even know how he could become fat as it was impossible for him to eat more than he usually did in a day, and skipping training was not an option either.

At the age of twenty-four, Trunks couldn't exactly remember how many girlfriends he had had. Obviously some of them had had an influence in his life, and he could recall some sweet moments, but he never really got attached for more than a few months. Some encounters had been one night stands, others had been romantic escapes, always with a new kind of girl and a different style of relationship. He had also had a couple of bad experiences with women eventually proving themselves to be more interested by his bank account than by his inner personality. The worst being that one time during the summer holidays at the Capsule Corps' house, when he had realized that the girl he was dating was actually crazy in love with his father. The scene that resulted was engraved in everyone's memory and no one ever dared to talk about it. Since then he had been more careful with who he introduced to his family and how. After thinking about it for a while, he had decided to invite Alix, his current girlfriend, for Thanksgiving, something he had never done before. He would always invite his girlfriend to come over but never for an important family holiday. He had told them about her several times on the phone over the past months but they had never actually met. For everyone around the table, this was a first.

Alix had been really nervous before the dinner, Trunks had told her that his family was a little bit particular and that she didn't need to freak out, which made her even more scared, especially when she had heard about the fifteen turkeys they planned to share between seven persons. Luckily everything had gone fine, she had tried to be as nice and polite as she could and the first half of the afternoon had gone by quite normally, maybe even rather joyfully.

It was already five in the afternoon when they finished the dessert, and Bulma invited Alix for a tea with Bra and her mother in her private salon. Mr. Brief knew that the women would stay in there for a while before they were to be seen again, and left to take care of his pets, leaving Trunks and his father at the table. Together they had eaten more than all the other members of the family and they were quietly contemplating the empty dishes that piled up in the sink. As Vegeta wondered if something was left in the fridge, Trunks started to talk:

"So what do you think?"

"I think I could do with another turkey, this holiday is definitely my favorite."

"No I mean, about Alix…" Trunks precised, trying to avoid his father's eyes.

"She is a bit frail but not unpleasant to look at." Vegeta declared.

"She is beautiful. But what did you think about her personality, her behavior?.." He insisted.

"Her personality? Boy, are you asking me for dating advice?" Vegeta said with a concerned voice.

Trunks' face and ears became crimson and he suddenly looked even more uncomfortable.

"Not really, I... I was just wondering what your first impression was."

Vegeta was known to have a specific skill for judging people. He had a sort of instinct that told him whether someone was honest and trustworthy or not. Obviously it worked even better for his close relatives, and Trunks couldn't remember ever being able to lie in front of his father.

"Why don't you ask your mother or your sister? I'm sure they would gladly talk about it with you for days. Actually I think they will do it even if you don't ask anything."

"I don't want Mom's opinion, I want yours."Trunks stated.

"Well, now you have it. She is decent." His father said with a small shrug.

"What? That's all?" He asked, slightly panicked.

"What do you want me to tell you? I was busy eating and this girl politely handed me the salt and the salad when I asked for them, that's everything I can tell you."

Obviously that was only a small part of what Vegeta had learned about the new girl during the dinner, but he did not want to influence his son. Alix was definitely extremely good looking according to the human criteria. Her skin was pale and smooth, her natural white blond hair fell gracefully down her slender back in soft waves and she was dressed with the finest taste. Her scent was a very subtle mix of flowers and vanilla. Vegeta could smell a hint of Trunks' regular fragrance under her own perfume, and he had previously noted a light floral touch coming from his son's clothes. He deduced that they were living together, or at least shared a drawer. According to Bulma, Alix was in law school and was a couple of years younger than Trunks. While Vegeta had spent the last three hours eating whatever he could grab from his seat, he had been attentive enough to the discussions to judge that the girl was well educated and respectful, and that she could even sometimes be quite funny. However, he believed it was not up to him to decide whether she was an adequate girlfriend or not, and remained neutral.

"Don't you think she's more than that?" Trunks tried again.

"She definitely seems a bit smarter than the one you brought us during the winter holidays. More survival instinct I guess." Vegeta muttered.

Trunks went even redder if possible. Three years ago he had invited a girl that he had only been dating for a couple of weeks, as she heavily insisted to meet his family. She had spent the day looking at his father's hair and had eventually asked him how he blow-dried it to get such an impressive volume. While Bulma had found the scene hilarious, Trunks had had to grab his girlfriend and take her out of the house before Vegeta could hit her and kill her on the spot "so that she would never reproduce with his son". He had never ended a relationship so quickly and so suddenly.

Trunks swallowed uncomfortably and talked again:

"Dad please… This is a serious question."

"You have never asked for my opinion before, what's the matter today?"

"I do care about what you all think about who I date, that's why I invite them here you know."

Vegeta didn't say anything. He knew Bulma liked to know who Trunks was seeing and he admitted himself he wouldn't like to be left aside completely.

"The thing is…"

Vegeta leaned against the back of his chair, waiting for his son to say whatever he had to say and that seemed so complicated to get out.

"Dad I…", Trunks began as he gave a short glance toward the door to Bulma's salon. "Alix… I think she might be the one."

Vegeta wasn't expecting this kind of conversation and looked genuinely surprised.

"How long have you been thinking about this boy?"

"For a few months now… I think I always knew she was the one, ever since I met her two years ago, I just never realized it."

"She is pregnant, isn't she?" His father asked, looking at his son with serious eyes.

"What? No! We've not..." Trunks defended himself vigorously.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow:

"You've not…?"

"I mean we have! But... Wait what the..? No! This-is-none-of-your-business! No, she is not pregnant!" He eventually managed to let out, praying for the conversation to move on.

"Trunks, this is definitely serious, are you sure about what you're saying?"

"I know! I think I am, but this is so complicated… How am I supposed to know I'm making the right choice?"

Vegeta remained silent for a few seconds and asked:

"Does she know?"

Trunks understood what he meant by the tone he used. Ever since he had started dating, he had always at one point had to face the question of whether to tell his girlfriend about his alien side or not.

"Yes, she does. I wanted to talk to you before telling her but last month I heard her trip in the stairs with the laundry basket and I somehow flew through the kitchen wall to catch her. Also she started getting suspicious and accusing me of being unprofessional as I leave the apartment at 7:58am to be at work at 8. It's only five miles away so you know…"

"So subtle."

"Well that was easy for you, if I am not mistaken Mom couldn't exactly get worst than the guy she saw the first time she met you right?"

"That's another story." Vegeta dryly answered. "How did she react?"

"Quite well actually. She wasn't sure I was being serious at first but I showed her some things and she eventually agreed to believe me."

"You transformed?" His father asked, interested.

"Oh no, I don't think she is ready for that." Trunks said, shaking his head. "I took her for a flight and when the night fell I showed her that I could make my hands glow and create little balls of light."

"What a romantic use of the deadly power of the Saiyans."Vegeta said in a mocking voice.

"Dad…"

"Boy, what exactly are you asking me?" His father seriously answered. "You seem to really like her, and she didn't freak out when you told her about your alien origin, what is it that you are so unsecure about?"

"I don't know… What if it's just a phase and I'm actually making a mistake?"

"Trunks you're twenty-four, and I believe you've had enough girlfriends to tell me whether this one is different or not, right?"

"She is different!"

"So?"

"When I told her about my Saiyan part she asked if I wouldn't be bothered that she is "only a human"… Did you think about that when you married Mom?"

Vegeta felt the discussion slide toward his own experience and was definitely not comfortable with it. His relationship with Bulma had had a fairly rough start and he couldn't really explain how it had eventually worked out.

"First of all your Mother is the most incredible human I have ever seen, she is not to be taken as an example, and then unless you want to marry Goten, in which case you would need to inform me right now, you don't really have any other choice than mating a human."

"I know… But what if I ever hurt her? Or if she gets hurt because of me? I could get her in a lot of troubles." Trunks asked, worried.

Vegeta knew the answer. He had asked himself the exact same question more than twenty years ago, and the passing years had brought him to a mysterious yet undeniable conclusion.

"Once you decide to protect this girl" he declared, "nothing bad will ever happen to her, and certainly not from you."

"But she looks so delicate…"

"Have you ever hurt her?"

"We've only been living together for five months… but no. Or she didn't tell me…"

"Then trust me, you are absolutely unable to hurt her."

"Is this some kind of Saiyan thing?" Trunks asked, uncertain.

Vegeta chuckled silently and shook his head.

"No boy, this is a man thing. I guess it just shows a little bit more when you know you are technically capable of breaking her in half."

"So you don't think I could be dangerous for her?"

"Didn't you prevent her from falling down the stairs last month? You might even help her live a little longer."

"Alright." Trunks admitted. "But…"

"If you say "but" one more time I swear she will see what a Super Saiyan looks like." Vegeta cut threateningly.

"No! I just wanted to know if there was anything… particular… that I should know about Saiyans and relationship or mating as you call it."

"Does the relationship I have with your Mother seem any different than the other human relationships?"

"Actually…"Trunks began, embarrassed.

"I mean not looking into details!"

"Well…"

"Fine! Your marriage will be different because you are not like everyone else, and I guess if you choose her she is special as well. But no, there is nothing more I can tell you about Saiyans that might affect your relationship more than your everyday life. If you had a traditional Saiyan union ceremony you would spend less time signing papers and more eating little sandwiches, but that's pretty much all."

"I didn't talk about wedding so far…"Trunks precised hastily.

"No, but the second you will tell your Mother what you just told me you will wear the ring."

Trunks suddenly got a little bit paler.

"Please don't tell her. Or Bra. I love them but this is between Alix and me, I don't want her to feel bad because they get too excited. I want us to be able to take the decision together and only between the two of us."

"Like I would go around and tell people about love stories."Vegeta said, rolling his eyes.

"So you don't think I'm a fool?"

"Do you love her?"

Trunks didn't recall his father using the word "love" in a sentence that didn't directly imply eating or fighting. He knew it was a genuine question, and answered sincerely:

"I do."

"Then yes, you are a fool, but no, you're not making a mistake."

Trunks smiled slightly and took a deep breath. He stood up and before leaving the room he added:

"Thanks dad."

The women joined them in the living room for the evening, and after a light supper that could have fed thirty persons, they enjoyed the warmth of the fire place, comfortably seated in the large couches. Bra was always keen on relating stories and she had chosen a few of her favorites that didn't include her brother slicing up a big lizard, or her father trying to kill Goten's dad. Trunks and his girlfriend were to stay for the night, and after the epic narration of his first day of middle school, he kissed his mother and sister goodnight and led Alix to his old bedroom. Once alone behind the door, she nested herself into his arms and let out a sigh of relief. Trunks chuckled lightly and whispered in her ear:

"They were really that difficult to bear?"

"Oh no! They are actually lovely!"

"You found my dad lovely?"He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not really, but he wasn't as weird as you described him you know."

"He has changed a lot since I was a child."Trunks admitted.

"I just... You all get along so well together I don't know if I really belong here. I tried to be as nice as possible but what if they don't like me?"

"You spent three whole hours talking with my grandma and my sister without getting crazy, that is more than any human girl has ever managed to do, I think they already like you."

"Yeah talking about that, your sister, is she… like you?"

"She is part Saiyan as well, yes."Trunks answered with a slight smile.

"She ate an impressive amount of cupcakes."

"It has always been her guilty pleasure."

"She had like thirty of them." She said with wide concerned eyes.

"I guess she wasn't really hungry then." Trunks answered with a shrug. "Listen Alix," he added softly as he held her closer and put his forehead against hers. "There are a lot of things you don't know yet and that will ask you a little time to get used to, but I promise you that I will take care of you and you will soon feel at home here."

She looked into his bright blue eyes and eventually kissed him on the cheek: "Then I trust you.".

They went to bed after Alix was done looking at all the pictures of Trunks as a child that covered a wall of his bedroom. He struggled a bit when she examined a very old photo and wondered out loud who was the baby he was holding and where he had found the sword he was carrying, but to his vast relief she agreed to talk about it another day. When Trunks eventually turned off the lights and pulled the blanket over them she put her head on his shoulder and, running a slender finger on his bare chest she innocently asked:

"Trunks? Will you show me what a Super Saiyan looks like one day?"

"…Bra told you."He concluded, clenching his jaw in the dark.

"She was just explaining something that has happened to her and she said she was so upset she almost turned Super Saiyan…"

"We will get to it, but right now is not really the best moment to show you that." He smiled for himself.

"Why?"She inquired curiously.

"It would catch my dad's attention, and there are only very few reasons why someone would transform at night in the bedroom."

"Such as?"

"Well, either we are in great danger, or we are having a lot of fun."

"A lot of… Oh!" And she giggled as she understood what he meant.

Later that night Trunks fell asleep, the heart lighter than it had been over the past four months.

xXx

The next morning the whole family gathered around the most gigantic breakfast Alix had ever seen. As she tried to remember all the things she had eaten since the day before, Bulma gently brushed her arm and reassured her:

"Don't worry sweetheart, you won't get fat, most of this will disappear in Vegeta's stomach before you can even get your hand on it."

Vegeta growled from behind the morning paper, grabbed a whole loaf of white bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Well, I think I already got the concept of eating what I can before Trunks seats at the table." Alix answered with a smile for her boyfriend.

"Great then, you will survive in our family." Bulma said jokingly.

The younger couple packed their belongings a couple of hours later and by 11am they were ready to leave. They thanked Bunny for the amazing meals and Trunks promised to come back as soon as possible. He hugged his mother and gave a short nod to his Father, both knowing they didn't need more to express their affection or their gratitude.

As they watched the car turn at the end of the driveway, Bulma squeezed Vegeta's arm lightly.

"She really is a sweet girl. I hope Trunks won't get bored of her too quickly, I feel like she still has a lot to give. I wish he would realize how lucky he is to have her… Do you think they will come back together for Christmas?"

"They certainly will." Vegeta declared. "By the way Bulma… How good are you at making little sandwiches?"


	2. 37°C

Vegeta wake up ! »

The Prince shivered and turned to rest on his other side, pulling the blanket over him and giving his wife his back.

"Please, I'm in a hurry!" Bulma insisted as she sat on the bed to put on her right sock.

But Vegeta didn't move an inch, already back in a deep and warm sleep. She frowned for a few seconds and decided to use her emergency trick. She leaned over him and kissed him softly on the lips. After a few seconds she did it again, but longer this time. Moving on the bed, she sat across his hips and resumed her kisses, ever so passionately. It didn't take long for her husband to come out of his dreams and pay attention to what was happening. Without a word, he firmly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her with him under the blankets. Soon he was over her and she could see his eyes shine with anticipation in the early morning light. She gave him her brightest smile and exclaimed: "Good you're up!". Rolling away from under him, she added: "Bra is sick. I think she caught the flu or something. I called the doctor but I have an important meeting this morning I have to leave. He will be here in an hour or so, I need you to take care of that."

Vegeta let out a loud growl of frustration as he let himself fall on the bed and buried his head in the pillows. Bulma finished getting dressed quickly and was soon ready to leave. As she crossed the door she called:

"Vegeta?"

"What?" He grumbled between his clenched teeth, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Be nice with the doctor we need him."

"I have killed people for less than that, woman."

"I love you too."

Vegeta listened to the sound of the car in the driveway and rolled on his back. He didn't like when one of his children was ill but he really hated having to deal with doctors. They were all nerdy know-it-alls, judging other people and their life style, prescribing drugs and healing humans like almighty gods. As if having a magic sprout as Guardian of the Earth wasn't enough. It had yet gotten easier since Bulma had decided to stick with the same specialist several years ago. Trunks was eight at that time. It was a casual appointment but he had been so scared by the threatening medical instruments that he had jumped back, popped Super Saiyan and flown through the door. It had taken Bulma days to convince the doctor and Vegeta to have a talk together and have the man agree to become their family physician.

Still frowning, Vegeta slowly got up and took a cold shower. He made sure Trunks left on time for high school and, after grabbing a cup of coffee, he went to his daughter's bedroom and sat on her tiny bed. He found her wrapped in the blankets hugging her favorite stuffed animal. Vegeta still didn't quite get the concept of cuddly toys but since this one was a monkey he somehow didn't mind.

"Your mother said you were sick."He stated with a yawn.

Bra opened sleepy eyes, took her nose from under her comforter and nodded slightly. Vegeta looked at her for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed pink and she looked very tired. It was strange to see her bedridden as she was always the first to wake up in the morning and was usually full of life, getting excited over everything she saw and asking questions every now and then. Her father was confident that, if she one day managed to use all of that energy in her training, she would surpass her brother.

"Did you have breakfast?" He inquired quietly after taking a sip of coffee.

Bra shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"You really are sick then." He concluded, raising his eyebrows.

Bra nodded seriously in approval and looked around her.

"Where is mom?"

"She had to go to work." Vegeta explained bitterly. "She called the doctor, he will soon be there."

"But I don't want to be alone with the doctor…" Bra pouted.

"Who said you would be alone?"He asked with a shrug.

"You will stay with me?"

"If you don't vomit on me I will." He eventually sighed.

"Thanks papa." Bra said, leaning back on her pillows.

On the other side of the town, Edward got woken up by a phone call. His vision still blurry from sleep, he read the name of his boss on the screen and answered with a yawn.

"Edward," the phone snapped, "I know it's your day off but I got a call from the Briefs and I'm out of town, I need you to do the visit for me."

"…Me?"

"Yes you, how many assistants do you think I have?"

"When?"

"Right now. It's for her three year old daughter. Do it, I will count it and you will get paid."

"Alright…"

"Edward?… Don't ask too many questions. And avoid her husband." The voice had changed but Edward was two cups of coffee away from noticing the hint of concern.

"Why?" he mumbled.

"Just stay professional, ok?"

"But…"

Edward's sleepy voice got interrupted by the end-of-call tone and he found himself looking at his phone silently, still wondering what he was supposed to do. After getting dressed, he absent-mindedly fumbled in his work bag and found the office's address book. It was only thirty minutes later when he parked his car in front of the Capsule Corps' building that he actually realized who he was visiting. The Briefs. Everybody knew Bulma Brief as a talented scientific and remarkable CEO, but her family's privacy was well preserved and he couldn't remember ever seeing what her husband looked like. In fact, he didn't even know she had a daughter until his boss' phone call. As he knocked at the door, he felt really curious but also quite uncomfortable. Why had he been told to stay professional?

Vegeta sighed again as he heard the doctor walk to the door and knock. He really didn't like having strangers enter his home. Hopefully this would be over quickly.

As the door opened, Edward understood what his boss meant by "avoid her husband". In front of him stood a short and impressively muscled man. He wore a white T-shirt, with grey sweatpants and white socks, but his hair made the whole look seem totally out of place. It just stood straight up above his large forehead, defying gravity and giving him a strangely threatening silhouette.

"Are you coming in or do I need to carry my daughter to the door step?"

Edward suddenly became aware that he was ostensibly glaring at the man's hair and felt his face redden.

"Sorry Sir. I'm Edward Stuart, I'm Mr. Johnson's assistant."

"Where is Johnson?"

"He is out of town for a medical congress, he asked me to do the appointment for him. I hope you don't mind."

"Whatever." Vegeta shrugged. It definitely was a bad day.

Edward followed the man upstairs, wondering if his child had such a severe face as well. He briefly imagined a mean looking baby with thick furrowed eyebrows, and twitched before shaking this distasteful thought away. As he entered the pink bedroom he looked around and realized his patient was sitting on the bed, quietly waiting for him. His eyes went from the little girl to the intimidating man and back to her. For a second he wondered if she was really the child he was supposed to visit but no one else was in the room, there was no possible mistake. She was hands down the cutest child he had ever seen. Her shining blue eyes enhanced her pink rounded cheeks and thin strands of wavy blue hair framed her delicate traits. She was only three but her presence filled the room. There was something gracious in the way she sat up straight to welcome her guest and waited for him to proceed. Edward opened wide eyes. There was absolutely no way for her to be the man's daughter. Surely Bulma Brief had had several men in her hectic life and the child was the result of a previous relationship. He even caught himself wondering if he should let such a beautiful and fragile creature alone with a man that looked so nervously unstable. Considering the multiple scars on his arms and the darkness of his expression, it wouldn't be surprising his if had a criminal record in at least one or two countries. Edwards swallowed painfully when he realized the father was staring at him with a scowl, expecting him to do something. He wished he had been alone with his patient but it was inappropriate to ask for such a young girl. Shaking under the severe gaze, he went to sit beside the bed and began his consultation. Bra obediently let him examine her, opening her mouth when told so, coughing when expected to, and telling him where it hurt.

Vegeta stood in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. His arms crossed over his chest he watched every movement the doctor had toward his daughter with an attentive eye. From time to time he answered questions about her health, her medical history or her daily life habits.

Edward was forced to admit that the man was really involved in his wife's daughter's care. He could tell how her weight had evolved over the past six months, what kind of medicine she had been prescribed before and when was her last booster shot. He even was able to give her blood group when asked about it, although it was totally irrelevant. Yet somehow, something made him look weirdly scary. Stressed, Edward did all the tests he could think of, even though he was already sure the child had caught the flu. One after another, he took his instruments out of his kit and soon found his thermometer. Vegeta knew what would happen and waited patiently. As expected the physician became very pale and did the measure again. Bra had a worried look at her father and pinched her lips.

"She… She needs to go to the hospital immediately." Edward stuttered with a dry mouth. "Almost 42 for such a young child…"

"Her normal body temperature is 40." Vegeta cut seriously.

"Well no actually it should be around 37…"

"Not for her."

"Well I understand that it's difficult to take in but like every human being her temperature should be 37. Sir, your daughter has got a very high fever and needs intensive care. I don't even know how she looks so well in such a state."

Without a word Vegeta walked to the bed, took the thermometer from the doctor's hand and put it in his own ear. "Papa?" Bra exclaimed as Vegeta sat down and the bed. Edward opened wide eyes and wondered what the man was doing. He waited nervously before breaking the silence.

"Sir I assure you…"

"What can you read, Edward?" Vegeta said, showing him the thermometer.

"43." He read with wide eyes.

"And I'm not even ill." The prince stated.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Definitely."

He recalled how several years ago Bulma had forced him to undergo hundreds of medical exams and measures to compare his body to the human one. She sometimes asked to do it again to "keep her data updated" but she hardly ever managed to measure anything after he got undressed in her lab.

"Do you really feel good?" Edward insisted. Surely the fever affected the whole family and the man was in some kind of delirium.

"Perfectly fine." Vegeta answered, irritated. "Her body temperature is a precise average between mine and her mother's, just like her brother."

"Do you mean to tell me that this is your biological child?"

Vegeta froze in front of the doctor.

"Papa? What's biological?" Bra asked with interest.

But her father wasn't paying attention. He had stiffened and talked between his clenched teeth: "Don't you dare insinuate something like this again."

"Are you sure?" Edward urged him. "I mean genetics don't lie…"

"Do your job and leave before I kill you." Vegeta growled threateningly.

The young doctor was very nervous but seeing the fragile little girl he decided it was time to be brave and do his job. "That's it," he claimed, "I'm calling social services. I can't let Bulma Brief's daughter with you I'm sorry. You refused to take her to the hospital when I, her doctor, told you that she needed immediate medical care. That's enough for them to take her away from since you may not be her legal father."

Vegeta became crimson and remained speechless. Bra enjoyed the most perfect childhood at Capsule Corps and he found himself being accused of child neglect.

"I believe you mentioned she had a brother, is that right?" Edward added seriously as he took papers out of his briefcase. "I'm afraid he will have to live with his mother as well. Maybe if you're on good terms Mrs. Brief will let you see them every other weekend."

Vegeta silently pondered how to kill the doctor as cleanly as possible to avoid staining the cream carpet but he soon got distracted by Bra's agitation. The little girl was red and frowning and her blue hair was standing straight up on her head. He didn't have time to react before she sent a small ball of light to the doctor's face.

Edward tried to avoid the unexpected attack and fell from his chair. As he stood back up he realized his eyebrows and bangs were burnt.

"What was THAT?" he shouted. I must be feverish as well, he worried, I'm having hallucinations.

"Stop being mean to my Papa!" The little girl snapped, slightly shaking with anger.

"Leave your prescription on the kitchen table and close the door behind you." Vegeta said severely as he saw the doctor pick up his papers to flee. "Call social services if you want, Bulma and I will be glad to welcome them and show how miserable our kids are."

As Edward crossed the door, the Saiyan looked at his younger child. Her hair had fallen back down on her shoulders in loose curls and she was resting against her pillows, still wearing a small scowl on her soft traits. With a proud smirk he added: "And yes, I'm sure that she is my daughter."


	3. Set in Dakness

Bulma waved goodbye and closed the door as the last car disappeared at the end of the driveway. Since the androids had destroyed the school, several parents had teamed up to maintain a somewhat normal life for their children. Every day, the kids were welcomed at a different house where they could meet, play and learn just like they used to do in pre-school.

Today, as every Tuesday, it had been Bulma's turn to take care of the children. After watching the last parent leave, she turned back and saw her four-year-old standing at her side and watching the door with a perplexed expression. She thought he was sad to see his friends leave and assured him they would meet again the day after, but he didn't seem to be satisfied with her answer. Furrowing his purple brows, Trunks eventually pulled slightly on Bulma's sleeve and asked:

"Mommy? Ewan's dad always comes to pick him up after school, why don't I have a dad to pick me up when I have school somewhere else?"

Bulma froze into place. It had been three years since Vegeta's death and she knew the time would come when she would have to explain her son who his father was. Trunks still knew nothing about him and Bulma tried her best to keep her child away from the horrors the androids committed, he never had had to face the concept of death. Squatting in front of her son, she spoke with a soft voice:

"You have a dad Sweetie, everybody has a dad. Yours is just not here to pick you up anymore."

"Will he come back one day?"

"No… No, I'm afraid he will not."Bulma admitted with a tight throat. Yet Trunks was still young and couldn't understand the irrevocable aspect of the loss.

"Ewan says sometimes daddies don't live with mommies because they don't love each other, and maybe my dad doesn't love you and that's why I never get to see him." He stated.

Bulma blinked several times as her eyes watered unexpectedly. She wished she could tell him that Vegeta loved her but she had actually never heard him say it.

"Your father cared about you and me." She eventually answered. "He was there when you were a baby and I'm sure he would still be here with us if he could." She really wanted to believe it.

"Is someone preventing him from coming?" Trunks inquired, still confused.

Bulma didn't want to lie to her son and knew she just had to let it out. It had been years since she had last talked about Vegeta with someone and it was painfully difficult to do it again. She sat on the rug and took her son into her arms before letting him sit on her lap. With a slow voice she explained:

"Trunks, your father died fighting the androids."

"My dad is dead?" Trunks asked seriously, his bright eyes wide open.

"Do you know what it means?" Bulma inquired quietly.

The little boy lowered his head and, twisting the fabric of his mother's cardigan between his small fingers he muttered:

"Sue said her grandma was dead and that's why she can't have homemade cookies like I do when I see nanny. She said it means she will never see her again."

"Sometimes when people are really old or really ill they don't have the strength to live anymore and they pass away, they go to the other world." Bulma explained softly.

"Was my dad really weak?" Trunks wondered with a concerned voice. He was young but already showed an impressive strength and unreasonable love to fight.

"No, your father didn't die like your friend's grandma. Do you remember how you played with Gohan last month?" She asked as the brushed a thin strand of purple hair away from his face. "Your father was stronger than Gohan."

Trunks considered the information for a while. He really liked Gohan. He was tall and strong and his orange suit was nice. They sometimes got to spend a few hours together and these were the only moments when Trunks was allowed to go outside without his mother. It was always a lot of fun as Gohan showed him how to kick and break different things and, when he was lucky, the older fighter would let him watch his training with balls of lights and loud explosions. Really, Trunks didn't know anybody stronger than Gohan.

"Was my dad Superman?" He asked, tilting his head to the side and still playing with Bulma's sleeve.

Bulma smiled at the memory of Vegeta in his tight dark blue suit and golden armor.

"Your dad was not always as nice as Superman but he definitely had a noble heart, I guess we could say he eventually turned into a sort of super hero." She answered, touching his little nose with the tip of her finger.

"But… Superman never dies…" Trunks said with a trembling voice.

"Your father was incredibly powerful but the androids attacked him together and that day he couldn't keep up with the two of them."

Bulma shivered when she recalled that day. In her heart and forever it would remain the darkest moment of her life. For a few days she had even lost hope. Crying over the lifeless body of her own super hero she had almost forgotten she still had a reason to live. Trunks called her out of her sad contemplation with another interrogation:

"Why did he fight them? He could have stayed with us! We are safe here, why did he go outside?"

Bulma watched her son's upset face with tenderness. Every day he looked a bit more like his father.

"Your dad tried to destroy the androids so that you would grow up in a peaceful world." And saying that, she looked away and wiped a hot tear off her cheek.

Trunks went silent, keeping his head down and trying to understand.

"Mommy?" He asked after a while. "Are you sad because daddy will not come back?"

"Maybe yes. Sometimes… I miss him. I wish he were here."She admitted with a low voice.

"Sue said her grandma could see her from Heaven. Maybe he can see you and it's a little bit as if he was here with you?"

Bulma bit her lip to repress a sob and cradled Trunks against her so that he couldn't see her face. She didn't want to explain that so soon and knew she wouldn't have the courage to do it anyway. Holding her son tight against her chest she simply whispered: "Maybe Sweetheart, maybe."

Trunks spent the evening playing around absent-mindedly. While he was too young to understand what his mother had gone through and couldn't miss someone he had never met, he was sad to know he would never meet his dad. He wished someone would come and pick him up after school and play with him like Gohan did.

The weekend after Bulma dropped Trunks at Chichi's place and drove a couple of hours to the very border of the city. It had been months since she had last paid him a visit. She never brought flowers, she knew they were meaningless to him. Once there, she sat on the black marble stone with her hands in her coat pockets and watched the horizon. It was a cold fall day and the long grass bowed under the heavy wind. She wished to believe Vegeta was watching over them but she knew it was a privilege he would not receive. Only the purest hearts were welcomed in Heaven and he was not on the list. Knowing he would never rest in peace was the never-drying source of her sorrow. Bulma turned back and looked at the epitaph: "Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, husband and father." Underneath that, a short quote. She knew a day would come when Trunks would ask about his father's life, and she would tell him the truth. But somehow deep in her heart, she was convinced she had gotten to know him as he truly was, and that beyond his intimidating power he was capable of genuine love. As to persuade herself even more, she ran a slender finger on the thin and dark letters of the quote. She had found it in his bedside book and treasured its idea with all her heart.  
"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.  
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."

That night Bulma came home with a project in mind. She definitely couldn't bring him back, but if another life existed in which she could prevent Vegeta from dying in the first place, she would do everything she could to save him.


	4. Old Legend

The cold wind brushed through his hair, giving him a pleasant fresh feeling as he finished his training. After all these years, the icy mountains remained his favorite place to train when he couldn't progress in the gravity room. Just as he landed, Vegeta felt his wrist vibrate. For a decade he had refused to carry a cell phone to his trainings, arguing that his suit didn't have any pockets. Not for the first time, Bulma had outsmarted him; his most recent outfit had come with a built-in communication device in the left sleeve. Rolling his eyes, Vegeta took off his dirty glove and saw Bulma's code on the wristband.

"Vegeta? Are you at home?"

"No, I'll be there in an hour or so."

"I got a call from Bra's school. She didn't show up this morning." Bulma stated with concern, "She's not with Pan and Trunks hasn't seen her either. Do you have any idea of where she is?"

"I'll call you back." Vegeta said coldly as he turned off the device. Bra was fifteen and, although she had quite a fiery temperament, she had never skipped class or shown serious behavior issues. Frowning, the Saiyan took off, well determined to be home under the hour.

Once there he didn't have to look around for long. The gravity room in the backyard emitted a familiar low buzz, proof that its enhanced gravity was working over 100G. Vegeta flew to one of the windows and narrowed his eyes, resting his forehead against the glass to look inside. The red lights were on and the control panel was lit but nothing moved in the confined atmosphere. The room seemed empty. Suspicious, he peered through a second window and caught sight of a shadow lying in a corner. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Bra's thin outline. Shaking, he flew down, typed the emergency shutdown code on the door and rushed inside. He was aware of the danger of the room, having experienced it himself several times. He also knew he had been very lucky to survive. Carefully, he picked up his daughter's inanimate body and carried her to the infirmary.

xXx

"I did it for Trunks, it's your turn now, we agreed on that fifteen years ago!" Vegeta exclaimed bluntly as he faced his wife in the kitchen. They had made sure Bra was no longer in danger and were waiting for her to wake up. It appeared she had stayed too long under a gravity level that was too high for her and had eventually passed out from exhaustion. Despite the threatening insistence of the Briefs couple the doctors had all agreed on fact they couldn't do much for their daughter but let her rest.

"I've already talked to her, and I'm telling you it's not that," Bulma answered, shaking her head.

"She's fifteen, she just hit puberty and that's it. I'm not giving her the talk, deal with it."

"It's something else! You two have been spending more and more time training together over the past weeks…"

"She asked for it. Her inner Saiyan teenager is showing, she needs to train to satisfy her cravings for fight," he cut in dryly.

"Bra has never been that keen on battles…. I don't know Vegeta, I really think it's not just her growing up. She seems so preoccupied..."

"Since when am I an expert in teenage girls?" he snapped.

"She's been pushing herself too hard in her training and she passed out in the gravity room. Doesn't that remind you of someone?" Bulma said with exasperation.

"Hn."

"Talk to her," she concluded their conversation as she left the kitchen with a severe look.

To his great frustration, Vegeta had no other argument and was forced to accept the order. Surely Bra had some teenager troubles, she had a lot of friends and her famous name sometimes brought her malevolent company. Maybe she had a boyfriend problem, he wondered. That thought gave him chills and he quickly shook away the thought of his daughter with a man with a disgusted frown. Really, he didn't understand why the woman was not the one to talk to her. Fifteen years before that, when they had discovered that Bulma was expecting a baby girl, he had made her swear that she would be the one in charge of all the puberty things and that he wouldn't even have to talk to his daughter between her eleventh and twentieth birthdays.

Bra came out of the medical room a couple of hours later. Her mother's worried scowl was not long to come and she had to swear never to do it again. Bra knew she would get told off for skipping class and it was not surprising for her mother to be concerned by her health, but when she saw her father enter her room after dinner she felt quite apprehensive. She wasn't allowed to use the gravity room over 100G by herself and she didn't really know if her father cared about her missing school. Vegeta walked across the room silently and sat on the bed, his impassive face increasing Bra's nervousness.

"You should have asked me to use the gravity room." he began after a moment. "It's not like I ever forbade you to train."

"I know dad. I just wanted to have a quick session and you weren't home. I didn't want to bother you for a casual workout."

"So casual you knocked yourself out," he noted bitterly.

"I was dehydrated. I just didn't realize it was so hot in there that's all." Bra shrugged as she looked away.

"Why did you need 250G for a routine session? Even when I'm here you never go over 200."

"I just wanted to try, I'm stronger than you think," she said blankly.

"Bra, you know how bad I am at this kind of talk, just tell me what's wrong or your mother will never let it go."

"I'm perfectly fine! Why won't you let me train as I want?" Bra shouted as she stood up. "I'm not a child anymore!"

"You do whatever you want as long as you stay alive. Sorry but this last condition is not negotiable."

"Why don't you believe in me? Just leave me alone already!"

And with that she left, breaking a hinge as she slammed the door behind her.

Vegeta remained dumbfounded as the sound of his daughter steps disappeared. Bra had never been a difficult child and her sudden fit of anger made no sense to him. Sighing, he let himself fall backwards on his daughter's bed and closed his eyes. This was not the kind of battle he was trained for.

xXx

Days passed but Bra's behavior was still confusing and worrying her parents. Her father even began having troubles training her, although he had been doing it since her early childhood.

"STOP!" Vegeta shouted as he flew to deflect his own attack inches away from Bra's face. "You're doing it again!" he added as he paced tensely across the gravity room.

"Why did you protect me? We were sparring!" his daughter spat back with bitterness.

"You were supposed to dodge the blast! You know you can't take a full blow like this Bra, that's suicidal!"

"I can counter it!" she shouted.

"No you can't! I can take yours but you are not strong enough to counter my attacks!"

Bra stood speechless for a moment, clenching her fists and grinding her teeth, before letting herself slowly fall on the floor in the middle of the room. Uncertain, Vegeta breathed a few times, glad she had stopped fighting like a fury. He walked up to her and stood at her side.

"Are you hurt?" he asked plainly.

"No… No I'm fine."

"You don't exactly look fine to me."

"Dad please..."

He sat down next to her and crossed his legs.

"That was a stupid move." he commented. "If you really want to kill yourself I doubt you will manage it while I'm in the same room as you are."

"I don't want to kill myself."

"Fine, because you mother wouldn't survive and I would be alone with your brother, such a sad prospect."

"It was not a suicide attempt!"

"You know, one day I killed myself and…"

"DAD!" the teenager screamed as she rolled on her stomach and covered her ears with her hands.

Vegeta stopped talking, glad he had finally caught her attention. Besides, he had no real intention of explaining to his fifteen-year-old how he had one day blown himself up.

"What's wrong, Bra?" he asked calmly but seriously.

"I… I don't know." She stopped and bit her lower lip. She looked away, sat up and gathered her will to free herself from the weight that had been crushing her chest for months. "It's just that last time I heard Goten and Trunks talk and…"

Vegeta closed his eyes and repressed a sigh. How could all the problems always relate to those two?

"They said they turned Super Saiyan when they were eight, and I know Gohan did it when he was only ten and… and…"

"And you're 15 and you still can't transform." Vegeta concluded, amazed to finally dig up the actual problem.

"I'll be 16 in a month and I'm not even close to it!"

"So?"

"Everybody can turn Super Saiyan but me!"

"Everybody?"

"Even Pan can do it and she isn't even half Saiyan! What's wrong with me? All the Saiyans I know became legendary before ten and I'm just here training hard..."

"Bra…"

"Oh dad I'm so sorry…" she eventually let out in a sob.

Vegeta raised both eyebrows and watched with dismay his daughter hide her face in her hands.

"Sorry for what?" he genuinely asked. This training session was definitely full of surprises.

"I'm sorry for not being strong enough and making you ashamed." Bra muttered behind her tears. "I really tried I swear but I'm still light-years away from achieving the transformation of the Saiyans…"

Vegeta remained speechless for a long minute. He had been ready to hear everything, from bad grades to health problems, high-school relationship issues and even teen pregnancy, but this was unexpected. Thank Dende it was not teen pregnancy though, he was almost sure not to be prepared enough for that.

"Bra, I have never been ashamed of you," he stated after a while.

"I know you would never say it" she muttered, "but you are the Prince and I know the transformation is important for you, I heard mom talk about it one day…"

"You need to stop listening to other people's conversations."

"Alright but still, I'm the last in the group not to be able to do it; I feel so bad…"

"I think you give too much credit to Goten and Trunks' drunken talks."

"They didn't really transform at eight?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes they did, but they are freaks of nature."

"What?"

Vegeta was never keen on relating his own experiences but this time he felt like Bra needed to hear them. The gravity room was a familiar and confined space that made all the discussions feel safe and private.

"The first time I saw Trunks' hair turn gold… It was just over there in this room… I couldn't believe it," he declared, "I even asked him to punch me in the face to see if he was a true Super Saiyan."

"Trunks punched you in the face?"

"He did. Pretty bad actually. Then he told me that Kakarott's brat could transform as well and I didn't sleep quietly for a month."

"But why? Weren't you happy?" Bra asked incredulously.

"I didn't know it was possible to become a Super Saiyan at such a young age with only a basic training."

"But you…"

"Bra, how old do you think I was when I transformed for the first time?"

"I don't know… Four? Three maybe? But you're a full blooded Saiyan and you're the Prince, it doesn't count!"

Vegeta remained silent, understanding the root of his daughter's troubles, considering the weight of his memories and how far he had come since then.

"35." he finally said. "I was 35 years old when I finally became able to turn Super Saiyan."

"That's not funny!" Bra frowned with frustration.

"Ask Kakarott. I think he was about 25 when he did it himself, I don't really know how old he is. He was the first ever to do it."

"Do you mean the first ever on Earth?"

"No. The first ever of the Saiyans, including the ones who lived on Vegetasei."

"I… I don't understand." Bra admitted, confused. It was not like her Dad to open up and talk about his past. Surprised, she heard him go on with his explanations.

"Bra, your perception of the Super Saiyan transformation is biased because you happen to live in a time where it has somehow become a common thing. But before Kakarott, it was just an old legend, nobody among the Saiyan people even believed it was actually possible to achieve such a great power."

"Goku was the first Super Saiyan?"

"Well, yes. The immeasurable privilege of becoming a legendary Saiyan was offered to an idiot third class who grew up on Earth and couldn't distinguish girls from boys before he turned thirteen." Vegeta confirmed with bitterness.

"He couldn't what?"

"He used to live in the woods and had never seen another human."

"Are we still talking about Goten's dad?"

"Ask your mother, she knows more than I do about this and she insisted I didn't want to know every detail. What's important," he continued more seriously, "is that one day Kakarott found himself overwhelmed and needed more power to win the fight. He drew in the deepest emotions he could feel and found the energy to transform."

"Why didn't you help him win the fight?"

Vegeta tried to remember why he had not witnessed the first transformation but his feelings were so intense and mixed in his memory that he couldn't recall the event clearly. He silently lay on the floor beside his daughter, crossing his fingers behind his head and looking at the ceiling in a thoughtful moment.

"I think I was dead." he eventually suggested. "Or maybe I had been brought back on Earth, I don't remember. Anyway, Saiyans don't help each other win fights."

"What? Dad, how many times have you died exactly?"

"Less than the monk that's a sure thing, but that's none of your business." Vegeta answered with a dark smirk.

"But why didn't you transform sooner? Didn't you want to become a legend?" his daughter insisted, aware that her father would surely never feel that talkative again.

"Oh I wanted it." he nodded slowly. "I wanted it with every single part of my body. My mind was nothing but excruciating desire and consuming envy. I trained harder than I had ever trained. I couldn't see anything other than my lack of progress and Kakarott's ease. I was so blinded by my ambition that I went to train in space."

"To Namek?" Bra asked eagerly. There was something in her father's eyes that she had never seen before. He was looking at the ceiling but she knew what he was seeing was deep in his memory. Somehow, he looked younger.

"No… I just needed a place away from everything where I could focus on getting stronger. But even there, with the most difficult conditions I had ever known, I was still nowhere near transforming. In fact I realize now that I was even farther than I thought I was at that time."

"How did you do it?"

"I never thought I would quote that dumbass," Vegeta sighed, "but power comes in response to a need, not a desire. I had been doing it the wrong way since the beginning."

"You didn't actually need to train?"

"Yes I did, but I was wrong to think I could choose to become a Super Saiyan. It happens when you need it the most."

"When did you need that much power?" she asked. She knew they were sharing a rare and precious moment and enjoyed it more than she expected.

"A few months after I started my training in space, a huge meteorite came close to the planet I was on. It was too big for me to destroy it. I realized it would crush my ship and my ticket back to Earth…"

"And your chances to see mom again." Bra cut with interest.

"I gathered every remaining hint of will and power I had and it happened." Vegeta concluded, imperturbable.

"So I'll never turn Super Saiyan if I never need to fight for my life?" the teenager soon deduced with disappointment.

"Considering Trunks and Goten's transformations you know it's possible to achieve it during peacetime."

"But how?"

"I can adapt your training and focus on controlling your energy, it might help you. The circumstances were different but Kakarott did train his eldest son until he was able to transform, it's possible. Everybody is different but there's no reason for you not to be able to do it."

"What if I never make it?" Bra let out without thinking, revealing her deep anxiety.

"Then it wouldn't make you less of a Saiyan. You are the Prince's daughter, nobody will take that from you."

"But you…"

"I couldn't care less. The only reason I train is for you to never have to fight yourself."

"Dad…"

"We'll change your training schedule," Vegeta declared as he stood up and walked to the door, "but if you ever skip school again I'll have Trunks follow you everywhere you go, including the bathroom."

"I… Ok, I guess." Bra accepted, looking down but smiling slightly.

xXx

That evening Bra appeared to be much more cheerful than she had been the previous weeks and as Bulma served dinner she made a mental note to find out how Vegeta had performed such a miracle.

"Mom, is it true that Goku didn't know the difference between boys and girls when he was young?" Bra asked with enthusiasm after her third dessert.

"Erm yes, it is, but who told you that?"

"Dad did."

Bulma looked across the table and saw Vegeta's self-satisfied smirk. "The idiot had never seen a girl in his life." he mockingly added. She knew he never missed an occasion to insult Goku, and she sometimes liked to offer her oldest friend a little payback.

"I remember the first time we met. He actually had to feel the crotch of the people he met to know whether they were a boy or a girl." Bulma said very slowly, watching Vegeta's face lose its arrogance.

"Goku touched you there?" Bra asked with wide eyes, chuckling and hiding her gaping mouth with her hand.

"We were only teenagers, but maybe he did" Bulma laughed cheekily, "legend has it he even screamed 'Bulma your balls are gone!' afterwards…"

Vegeta had stopped breathing a long minute ago and was turning a deeper shade of purple as every second passed. The women laughed out loud, for both Goku's past ignorance and Vegeta's convulsed face. They watched him stand up from his chair and walk like a robot to the door, of which he broke the handle before exiting the room to escape their giggles. Bra was rolling on the floor laughing as Bulma explained how Goku had asked about the butt on her chest when he took off in the backyard. Furious and flying straight to the Son house Vegeta had a sudden realization. He had already died twice but next time, whether it was for them or by them, these women would be the death of him.


	5. The Loser Takes It All

The blow sent him through several trees and he ended his flight against a large rock. The shock of the impact spread from his very core to the extremities of his body, making his bones vibrate and his muscles tighten with pain. Clenching his teeth, he freed his right wrist from the stone and wiped his bloated lower lip before leaping down to the ground. He took a few quick steps to take off again but stopped mid run. His knee was aching. His lungs were hissing. He hid behind a large tree, staying very attentive to any sign of his opponent. He twitched at the size of the blood stain on his white glove. He needed to end this fight quickly. It had been a while since he hadn't fought so brutally. He knew the other one would not let him escape and decided to show himself and fight with pride. Soon enough they were once again facing each other. It was a one to one fight, man to man.

Vegeta had first thought he would be able to win easily. He had planned on having a little bit of fun, because he hardly ever had the occasion to fight so roughly, and then crush this opponent who thought he could measure up to the Prince of all Saiyans. However, he had soon realized that he lacked real fight training. It had been a while since the Earth had last been threatened by a new villain. His spars with Kakarott were usually an opportunity to practice some new techniques or ruthlessly beat each other like teenagers would do, until one of their wives called for dinner, at which point they would both swallow a Senzu bean, rinse in the river and head home.

This time his rival would not give him time to test an attack or recover after a kick. The eyes looking at him shone with passion and violence. Vegeta sent a few beams, the first two were dodged but the third hit just right and the other man fell down through the branches. The Prince didn't even have the time to savor his skills that his thigh was burnt by a ray of light coming through the leaves. Furious at this boldness, Vegeta dived into the forest and started to fight hand-to-hand mercilessly. He couldn't be beaten. He was not ready. One day he would lose but not this time. Not so soon.

The man in front of him seemed oblivious to his inner reflexion. He fought fiercely. Hitting, jumping, flying for his life. He knew Vegeta was weakened and was well determined to take advantage of it. For years he had prepared for this fight and now he was close to achieving his goal.

Vegeta ignored the pain in his leg and admitted he had to resort to his most powerful attacks. He had never thought he would need to go the such extends but the fight had gone too far. He sent a few good punches to stun the man and give himself time to charge his energy. He was a few feet up in the air as he hesitated for a second, feeling the deadly power run through his veins to the tip of his fingers. His opponent was on the ground, standing tall with defiance, his feet strongly pushed in the soil and his eyes burning with anticipation. Vegeta knew he was about to try and counter his attack but he would not hold back. Saiyans don't fight with feelings. Surely this life on Earth had made him soft, thoughts distracted his mind and polluted his ki. As he looked down again however his saw his rival's determination and understood he had to give everything if he didn't want to lose the battle. With a ferocious roar he sent his final flash with all the energy he had, as if he was back twenty years before, fighting for his life and is honor.

The beam hit the ground and dig a large crater were the other one used to be. For a moment Vegeta remained silent. He knew the consequences of his action but fighting seriously was a sign of respect for his opponent. A few seconds passed but the light of the attack didn't disappear. Instead of melting deeper into the ground it seemed to grow back. Vegeta didn't understand fast enough what was happening and, slowed down by his injuries he wasn't able to doge the ball of energy that was sent back to him. As he felt the terrible burn on his chest he understood he had lost. He crashed in the mud, his torn suit revealing his bruised torso and his swollen knee. Lying in the ground he waited for the other man to come and finish him. He had already lost a few battles in his life but losing this one made his mind go through hundreds of feelings and reactions. His heart was pounding in his chest as he heard the leaves crackle under the steps of his opponent. The later stopped a few feet away and contemplated the broken body in front of him, not daring to move any closer. The fierce light in his eyes had vanished and he was now hesitant.

Vegeta's eyes followed a ray of sun light that peaked through the leaves and he slowly raised his head to look at the young man in front of him. After so many years of training, so many hours spent trying to live up to his rank and make his ancestors proud, it was now a defeat that made him realize he had reached his goal. His bruised body was warm with the sensation of a great achievement.

"Come closer."

Trunks stepped forward and carefully sat down next to his father. Vegeta took him by the shoulder and brought him against his chest in a powerful embrace.

"You've made me proud, my son."


	6. The Lesson

Trunks kicked into a rock as he came home that morning, his shoulders low and his hands angrily pushed deep in his pockets. It was the fourth time he walked this path and it was more and more frustrating. He had just left Alix's house after a night, and just like the three previous times he had left after spending the whole night wide awake, carefully lying on his side of the bed while she slept on her side. He had not even dared holding her for fear he might get too comfortable and fall asleep with his arms around her. Trunks cringed at the thought of what could have happened and growled when the sun hit his face, blinding him painfully after his sleepless night. Eager to be home, he started walking faster and flew straight to his bedroom window as soon as he was more or less certain not to be seen by a passerby.

It was the summer holidays, every member of the family was home. His dad was training outside with his sister, it made no doubt they had sensed he was back but none of them cared about how he enjoyed his free time. His mother was working on something in the gravity room. His parents had always had a very laid back attitude concerning his activities outside of home, and at eighteen he was old enough to do whatever he wanted without an adult. They knew he didn't need anybody to be safe even at night. Somehow something told him they wouldn't be so relaxed when Bra would start asking for the same freedom. Lying on his own bed Trunks could smell Alix's floral fragrance on his clothes. Tired, he rubbed his eyes with a yawn and noted that the scent held onto his skin. For hours they had shared kisses and gentle caresses. He took a deep breath and sighed with ease as the sweet perfume numbed his brain. Eyes closed, he remembered running his fingers through her hair, following the curve of her back down to the soft fabric of her skirt and lifting her up against his chest. Smiling he finally nodded off. She was amazing.

xXx

A few streets away Alix contemplated her unmade bed. She was alone in the house as her parents had left for the weekend. Silently she opened the window the get some fresh air as she put the pillows back in place. The morning sunlight warmed her pale skin and she stopped pulling the sheets when something caught her attention. She noted slightly red patches on her wrist. She traced the marks with the tip of her finger. It was like small superficial burns. Five of them. She couldn't exactly recall when this had happened. She smiled slightly when she thought about the night before. He had carried her to the bedroom, holding her against him with one strong arm under her thighs and the other one on her back, swiftly snuck under her blouse. She felt her cheeks redden at the thought of his hands on her skin. Trunks was ridiculously seductive. She knew they both wanted more but like the three other nights her boyfriend had interrupted their games before even taking off her shirt. The first time she had been upset. She had thought she wasn't good enough for him. But then he had explained how he didn't want to hurt her and how he would need some time to control his strength. He had never let her witness what his family was doing in that gravity gym but something told her his abilities went far beyond lifting the car to catch the cat. As bad as she wanted him, she had to admit he could sometimes be a bit intimidating, and promised to give him all the time he needed. It hurt however to see him spend sleepless nights of worry and she wished she could do something to help him. She thoughtfully considered the red patches on her wrists and bit her lower lip. She had never thought she could have this kind of problem with a man.

xXx

Trunks woke up in the middle of the afternoon. He felt like he had napped far too long and had a hard time getting up. His tired self became even grumpier when he remembered why he hadn't slept all night. He was afraid to move and hurt Alix. All his life he had only ever slept alone or with Goten, and they had shared a few strong night kicks. It didn't matter because they were almost equal in strength, but he was absolutely terrified to imagine what would happen to a frail human girl if she received one of those punches in the middle of the night. And what if he held her too tight? What if he rested on her and was too heavy? During the day she could say whenever he was hurting her, but when they both slept it was different. At first they believed he just needed some practice, after all he wouldn't be the first Saiyan to have a human girlfriend, but when the situation didn't improve after several attempts he started thinking about the worst possible things. Two weeks before he even had an awful dream in which he woke up to Alix's inanimate body in his arms. He had decided to give it one more try and then seek for help.

This is how he woke up this afternoon with a terrible prospect. Only three men in the universe could answer his questions. Somehow talking to Gohan soon appeared to be the option that was the less embarrassing and the most likely to give him serious answers.

xXx

Videl opened the door cheerfully but was slightly disappointed when Trunks insisted to see her husband. Gohan seemed surprised but happy to see him.

"Hey Trunks, how is it going? Looking for Goten?"

"Hey, I'm fine thanks. No, not really, I need to ask you something actually."

"Oh sure, come in!" he said as he stepped aside to open the path.

Trunks looked at Videl and then Pan who was watching TV in the living room and felt his ears redden.

"I… Could we talk just you and me?"

Gohan opened wide naive eyes as Videl narrowed hers. Feeling her heavy curiosity, Trunks blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

"I need help with my math homework."

"Can't your mother help you out?"

"She's busy with the gravity room."

"Really? I thought she was done with the converter, did Vegeta break it again?... Do you even still have homework? I mean aren't you on summer break?... "

This is when Gohan became aware of the desperate anxiety in Trunks' eyes and took the hint. He was never good at this kind of things and quickly closed the door behind him before Videl could start asking questions. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie to her for a second. Besides, he began to worry about what Trunks really wanted to ask him. What could he do for him that neither his super smart mother nor his powerful father could do? They walked for a few seconds in the front yard to make sure Videl couldn't hear them despite her hear being furiously pressed against the door.

"So… What's wrong?" Gohan started with a terribly uneasy voice.

"Ok it's really awkward but you're the only one who can help me." Trunks whispered.

"If it's a Saiyan thing you should ask your father you know…"

"I can't. You'll get it."

"Erm alright, I'll try my best but this seems like a big deal I don't know if I'm qualified enough haha…" Gohan laughed nervously.

"You have a child, I know you can answer."

"What? Did you… Did you get your girlfriend pregnant?"

"I wish!" Trunks said with exasperation, and seeing Gohan's gaping mouth he added: "I mean I didn't but I wish I could!"

"You want a child? Aren't you like... 19?"

"No I don't, I just would like to be able to do it without killing my girlfriend!"

Gohan's face changed several times as it expressed successively "What the hell is he talking about?", then "Oh is this about having an intercourse?", and "Alright I see why he doesn't want to ask his father, it makes sense." and finally "I feel you kid."

"Oh well…" he eventually started as he realized Trunks was eagerly waiting for his answer. "I'm really sorry Trunks but I think you should ask your father. I had the same problem as you seem to have and this is what helped me."

"Arg Gohan you can't do that to me!" Trunks let out with dismay, "I mean Goku must be pretty cool about this and it surely went well talking about this with him but you know how MY father is…"

"No you got me wrong. I have no idea how my dad actually had two children. I believe he has got some kind of primitive instinct that tells him how not to kill his mate but I also think mom being super tough is a big part of the deal. Just like you I was too embarrassed to ask my father and I went for the only other person who could answer… Vegeta."

"This is not an option. Gohan, your brother is the only one to match my strength and I don't think we would make a great couple. You can't let me be a virgin my whole life."

Gohan blushed as Trunks' anxiety became more explicit. He quickly tried to think of a solution that could satisfy the young man and end the conversation.

"I think I heard Goten talk about it with my dad once but I don't really know how it went."

"It was a disaster. He didn't talk for three days straight and after that he just said he wished he had burned his ears before listening to your dad's take on how to make baby monkeys."

"This is not really surprising. If you consider how he feels no shame walking around naked I guess he has just no concept of inhibition. Compared to that I guess talking to Vegeta is less demanding?"

"So I… I have no choice right?"

Gohan scratched the back of his head in an awkward and familiar stretch.

"Sorry but I really don't think I can explain this better than Vegeta and frankly just thinking about it makes me uncomfortable, this would just be terrible."

Trunks was really tempted to give up his little investigation. Suddenly, he idea to try again one more time before asking for help seemed very reasonable. He even started to think he could maybe live his life without ever sleeping with a girl, but this soon appeared to be a terrible prospect for an eighteen-year-old boy. Shaking his head as he landed in his backyard he decided to bravely face the truth. He had to ask his dad.

xXx

As if Dende wanted to prevent him from changing his mind and running away, Trunks was offered the perfect occasion before even reaching his bedroom. His father was alone in the kitchen. He was fixing himself a little post-workout snack and his son knew it was the best time of the day to speak with him. Vegeta was tired by his training, fresh out of a relaxing shower and glad to fill his ever-growling stomach. Trunks and his sister had for long learned to use this time of the day to ask for small favors such as going out late at night and getting unreasonably big Christmas presents. Still, the teenager waited for his father to have the head in the fridge to start talking.

"Dad?"

"Hn?"

"Do you remember the talk we had when I was thirteen?"

Vegeta's hand tightened on the door of the fridge and he suspiciously looked up over his shoulder before asking:

"Do you mean the time when your mother forced me to explain you how humans reproduce?"

"Yeah that one."

"No, I don't remember." he answered as he tried to hide back in the fridge, only letting his hair pop out of the vegetable drawer. Little did Trunks know that the slightly embarrassing conversation he had had with his father five years before was not the part of the memory that made The Prince of all Saiyans wish to hide under the cabbages and become a cucumber.

Vegeta used to believe that, just like him, everybody discovered by themselves how their body worked during puberty and had been quite confused when Bulma had told him it was time to give Trunks The Talk. While he acknowledged mating as a natural need and a very pleasurable activity, he had never thought it needed to be explained. Maybe occasionally mentioned between grown up men, surely sometimes discussed under the blankets with his wife, but certainly not explained plainly and blankly to a prepubescent teenager.

"This is humiliating, I'm not explaining this to him." Vegeta had stated, true to his beliefs. "He is not an idiot, he'll do fine without guide. I did it, my ancestors did it, even Kakarott did it, this has to be the simplest thing ever to find out."

"This is not about how to do it Vegeta, this is about how to do it safely. What if he catches a disease or gets a girl pregnant by mistake?"

"Who would be stupid enough to get a girl pregnant by accident?"

A second under Bulma's furious glare had been enough for his own stupidity to slap him across the face, and to avoid further humiliation, The Prince had beaten a retreat and agreed to explain his son how not to spread royal Saiyans genes inconsiderately with the first human girl he would meet.

This is why Vegeta kept hiding in the fridge and silently prayed for Trunks to be done talking before Bulma came in the kitchen.

Seeing that his father was very unhelpful, Trunks gathered his courage and decided to go for it.

"Back then you told me to come back to you when I needed more information."

Vegeta understood it was time to take his nose out of the cauliflower and closed the fridge as he talked between clenched teeth.

"I meant that you'd grow up and figure on your own how embarrassing it was and never want to talk about it again."

"That's what I thought for a while but well I… I need to ask you something."

"Yes, you have to wear a condom, end of talk."

"No it's not about this, please, it's really embarrassing for me as well but I don't know what to do."

"What?"

"There is this girl... Alix… We've been dating for a while now and, you see, we became quite close and…"

"Straight to the point."

"We would like to take it to the next level but last time I hugged her I almost broke her a rib. I tried to be more careful but it's not enough."

"Practice makes perfect."

"I know I tried but she's so fragile…"

"You'll figure it out."

"Dad please, Gohan told me you helped him and… please I don't want to lose her and, ugh, I'm almost 19 and…"

Vegeta growled when he heard that Gohan had betrayed him and realized that the least he could do was to do the same for his own son.

"Ok! Alright! I'll do it if you shut up right now. Not a word more about your motivations, I don't want to know. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Be ready at 8."

"Ready for what? I just want you to explain to me… Dad!"

But Vegeta had already left the room, leaving Trunks wondering what he had just gotten himself into.

xXx

The next morning Trunks followed his father after breakfast and realized with horror that they were going into his own bedroom.

"Why here?"

Vegeta shrugged. "We don't need a training room, I thought this is where you'd feel the more at ease."

"Dad sorry but I don't need you to show me anything I know how it works I just want to know…"

"I know. Trust me I would rather do anything else than show you whatever you were thinking about. Sit down and listen. It's not about how you move or how you touch her, it's about controlling your power level."

Trunks relaxed a bit and sat cross-legged on his bed as his father used his desk chair.

"You want to repress your energy as far as you can. The first times you'll almost have to make it disappear. When you get more experienced and have a better control you can let it grow back and be less attentive to it, but in the beginning it's the only thing that will prevent you from being too strong and hurting her."

"But… if I make it disappear I'll just pass out, won't I?"

"Your ki is hidden but your body and your muscles are still there. It's just as if you had never developed your power level. You're still physically strong but it's very limited, it's not enhanced by your mind and your will power."

"Like when we suppress our energy to hide from an enemy?"

"You need to go further than that. When you want to hide you just have to make sure your power doesn't leak out, it can still be high in your body. But for this, it has to be low in your very core."

"Do you mind if I just... try it? I know this is weird but could you just tell me if I'm doing it right?"

Vegeta nodded shortly and watched his son with a serious face. Trunks took a deep breath and closed his eyes to focus on his sensations. He easily managed to hide his ki as he would do in a battle, but going further happened to be quite a demanding task. Something in his mind didn't want to let him diminish his own power. It was unnatural to try to become weaker.

"Force it. You'll be fine." Vegeta said as he felt his son struggle to control his energy. He knew his instinct was telling him not to repress his ki further but he had to go beyond his apprehension.

Trunks frowned. It hardly seemed possible to reduce his power level more than he already did. With a sigh he opened his eyes and let his energy rise back to its normal level.

"Try again." Vegeta said as Trunks looked at his feet with disappointment.

"No, I'll try again later, thanks for telling me about it, I'll practice on my own."

Vegeta knew Trunks would likely never try again if he stopped at that point. The exercise was difficult and opposite to what the young man was used to doing in training. However, he also knew it was important for him to be able to control his energy.

"Try again. Just think about how you can raise your power level when you fight. It's the same but the other way around."

Trunks was not convinced but he really wanted to be able to control his own body. Closing his eyes again he tried to calm down and focus on his goal. He reached the point where he was not comfortable anymore with the exercise and kept going. To his great surprise he realized he could hide his ki far more than he usually did without feeling physically weak. His body was still strong and his mind clear. Something however felt different. It was disturbing him and when he became aware of the uneasy feeling that spread through his body his power snapped back up.

"Nice try." His father commented. Trunks twitched uncomfortably.

"I… I don't like it." He said as he nervously pulled on the fabric of his shirt with a frown.

"Because it's the first time you do it, you'll get used to it." Vegeta stated.

"I felt… naked. Really vulnerable. I had not realized how my ki shielded me from the outside world."

"How exactly do you think your girl feels at that moment? She's willing to give herself to you, in her purest form, and on top of that she knows you could kill her with a wrong move."

Trunks considered the idea for a while. He had never known his father was so considerate toward women. He understood how selfish he had been. He had only cared about his own experience and hadn't taken into account how trustful his girlfriend was. In fact, she almost trusted him with her life. He had not realized how many things she would do for him.

Vegeta silently watched his son take in the depth of the situation and without a word he left the room, glad the lesson had been effective.

xXx

"I want to try something. I don't know if it will work but I think it's worth a try." Trunks said a few weeks later as he was alone with Alix in his bedroom.

"I can wait longer if you need me to you know…" she answered, knowing well what he wanted to try.

He gently brushed the back of her neck before running his fingers up in her hair and kissing her passionately. She returned the kiss and let him lift her against his chest.

"Do you want to wait longer?" he asked when they finally broke the kiss, both slightly out of breath and aware the question was not necessary.

"I don't think I do." Alix whispered in his ear as she hugged him tighter.

Carefully, curiously, they undressed each other, battling their impatience and taking the time to gently unbutton, untie and take off everything that they weren't born with and prudishly cover themselves with a sheet. Trunks extended his arm to turn off the light but he suddenly felt Alix's thin fingers under his chin, forcing him to look up as her eyes tried to memorize every detail of his face. With a smile she caught sight of something she had never seen before.

"Trunks, are you blushing?"

Was he? Maybe. Unable to answer he lowered his head, kissed her collarbone and rested his forehead on her chest. Everything seemed new to him. He could feel each caress on his skin, as if her delicate fingers moved through his tough armor. With delight he became aware of the weight of her body against his and discovered the surprising strength of her embrace. He didn't resent the weakening sensation anymore. Her presence and endearments relaxed him and he had never felt closer to her than at this very moment. She was worth all the power in the world and despite being the weakest he had ever been he felt invincible. For the first time, they were sharing the experience together. There was no fear, no angst, no restrain, only trust and contentment.

xXx

"Dad?"

"Hn?"

"I was wondering… I had this idea yesterday and I feel like it's kind of opposite to what you taught me but I'm not sure, I mean…"

"What?"

"How long do you think I would need to practice if I wanted to… I mean I thought it could be interesting to see how it feels when… Actually I think Alix really likes guys with blond hair and…"

But Vegeta was already gone. Vanished before Trunks could think of another way of not saying exactly what he wanted but still giving clues significant enough to get an answer.

As he flew away quickly to avoid being followed, the Prince shook his head with a hint of disapproval but a smug smirk. That kid was way too much like his father.


	7. Future Advice

Trunks was still trying to figure out what was going on at Capsule Corps. The evening before his parents had both come into his room at bedtime to talk to him. Last time his father had bothered to attend such a family council was when he and Goten had stolen the dragon radar and had somehow managed to gather five of the dragon balls before being stopped by adults. Trunks had almost believed his dad had reached a new level of transformation that gave him the ability to speak particularly loud and fast. This time however and despite his best efforts, the young boy couldn't remember doing anything wrong that he had not already been scolded for. His mother had started to explain that someone was going to visit them and stay for a couple of days.

"Do I know him?" the boy asked curiously.

"No, you've never seen him. We met him before you were born."

"Wow it's been a while! Is he a friend of yours like Goku?"

"Not exactly…" Bulma said as she looked at her husband for help. To her great surprise Vegeta actually took a few steps forward to the bed and started talking.

"Trunks, you know how smart your mother is, don't you? How she built the gravity room and designed space ships?"

"Oh it's Jaco, right?" Trunks cut with a little disappointment in his voice.

"No it's not Jaco, don't interrupt me. About 10 years ago someone came to meet us and explained us that he was from the future."

"Dad no. I'm 9 you can tell me the truth."

Vegeta pinched his lips in annoyance and went on:

"This someone traveled to our time using a time machine. He later told us that Bulma had built the time machine for him."

"Really Mom? And it worked? Oh please make one for me!"

"This person came from the future, it was not really me who built it but the Bulma in his future dimension."

"Two moms in two different timelines?" Trunks wondered.

"Yes, we could call her "future Bulma". But you understand that if there are two moms, there are also two dads, and two Gokus and Gohans."

"And two Gotens?"

Bulma's face distorted for a split second before she simply answered "His dimension was slightly different, Goten was not there."

"Mom… Were there two me?"

Vegeta sighed, glad to be done with this complicated conversation. He turned around and walked to the door as he confirmed:

"Future you is paying us a casual visit this weekend. Don't freak out." And with that he disappeared in the corridor, leaving Bulma alone with their confused son.

"This is heavy."

"He's really nice, I'm sure you'll both get along very well Trunks." Her warm smile slightly faded when she resumed: "His life however… was different from yours. He was born during a terrible war and his father died when he was a baby."

"Somebody killed dad? How?"

"Two androids attacked him at the same time. In this dimension future Vegeta died when future you was only a few months old. You understand he has a particular relation with the Vegeta we both know, it's an occasion for him to get to know the father he never had."

"Wow… What about Goku? Did he avenge dad?"

"Goku died from a heart disease a couple of years before the beginning of the war against the androids."

"Goku died?... Does that mean the androids won and everybody died as well?"

"No, future Gohan trained your future self and he was able to destroy the androids and save the Earth."

"Future me is a hero? I knew it! I'm super strong!" Trunks exclaimed as he threw his fist in the air with pride. Bulma chuckled lightly and pursued:

"You both will have a lot to talk about. You can ask him whatever you want when you meet him but remember, his life was difficult and he wasn't as lucky as you are."

"Ok mom… Can I ask him how to become a hero?"

"Sure you can." Bulma answered as she pulled the blanket over her little boy. She turned off the light and with a smile she wondered how Vegeta would react if he heard his own son ask for someone else's advice on how to save the earth when he had himself once given his life for it.

And this is how, as said in his message, Mirai and his time machine appeared in the Briefs' backyard on Saturday morning. Bulma had obviously invited everyone for a welcome barbecue party and they all cheered loudly when Mirai finally walked among them. He stood tall and confident, his long lavender hair tied in a low ponytail and his sword hooked at his belt. He shook hands and received several manly pats on the back as he greeted each of his old acquaintances with warmth and enthusiasm. He eventually made Bunny giggle with a short hug and a kiss on the cheek and looked at the group happily. Soon a movement in the back caught his sight. It appeared that Vegeta had just kicked his son away from behind his legs and the boy had rolled out of the small crowd, suddenly becoming the center of the attention. The two Trunks looked at each other for a moment as the everybody held their breath, before Mirai walked toward his younger version and squatted down.

"Nice hair." he said as he moved a purple strand away from his face with a quick nod to the side.

"Thanks, it looks better in gold though." Trunks answered with suspicion.

"It definitely does!" Future Trunks laughed frankly, slightly impressed by the boy's assurance.

"I told you you guys would get along!" Bulma said from behind the little crowd. She had been busy in the kitchen and had not greeted her guest yet.

Mirai's face changed instantly and Trunks couldn't exactly tell what it expressed. It was surprise, hesitation and joy surely, but also anxiety and doubt.

Mirai stood up and watched Bulma walk up to him joyfully. He kept a rigid smile on his face, afraid to move or talk. When Bulma stopped in front of him he slightly bent down and hugged her. Not like he had hugged Bunny no, not a short and conventional hug you give to greet someone. He wished it would look casual but once in his mother's arm he could barely hear the crowd anymore. He held her close as he let her warm happiness fill his heart. He felt her arms tighten around his waist and his chest burnt with relief as her embrace appeased his pain. It took him he all the willpower in the world not to hold on when Bulma slowly moved away from him.

"Wow Trunks! You've been training hard, you're even stronger than you were last time, careful not to break me haha!"

Mirai forced a smile as his ears reddened and awkwardly tried to shrug his embarrassment away.

The party went on late in the afternoon and the guests soon began to leave, each of them thanking Bulma for the day and whishing Mirai a good stay at Capsule Corps. The Briefs had a quiet dinner, Mirai gave a few news from his own dimension, how they were still rebuilding some parts of the city but enjoyed peace and security. Bulma asked about her future self and Mirai promised to communicate her greetings to his mother. The three men agreed to spar together the next day and Bulma, tired by her little welcome party, stood up and wished both Trunks goodnight. Mirai jumped from his chair and hugged her before she left.

"Goodnight Mom" he whispered as he held her close against his chest, slightly longer than necessary. Bulma got briefly weirded out but Mirai wore a smug smile when he let her go and she understood he was just kidding with her.

The men left the house in the early morning. The gravity room was too small for three persons to train in and they decided to find a place far enough from the city to spar freely. They flew for a few minutes before reaching Trunks' favorite arena, a wide grassy plain surrounded by rounded hills. Vegeta was eager to see how strong Mirai had become and Trunks was motivated to prove his worth against his future self. After a short warm up they took turn and fought one to one. Despite trying as hard as he could Trunks lost both against his father and against Mirai. The fight between Vegeta and Mirai lasted a while but at the end of the afternoon Vegeta was the last standing up. They had both fought seriously but Mirai had not expected such a determination from his opponent. He suspected it had something to do with his younger self's presence and careful attention to the spar. Also Vegeta hardly ever had the occasion to face a true opponent other than Goku and wouldn't have missed the opportunity to fight with the great and total extend of his power. The older Saiyan helped Mirai stand back up, signifying that the battle was over and they cleared the field together. Trunks was well decided to one day beat them both and took the occasion to practice the sequences he had just seen. Vegeta sat down next to Mirai and they both looked at Trunks as he repeated his movements over and over in a familiar quest for perfection.

"He's strong." Mirai said after his breathing and heart rate had gone back to normal. "I didn't train before I was about thirteen so I can't really tell, but I wouldn't be surprised if he surpassed you."

"He will. Soon." Vegeta said with a small smirk. Trunks was the only one he would ever allow to be stronger than himself, and that day would mark the proudest defeat of his life. "He could train harder but his mother won't let him."

"I see."

Mirai remained silent for a moment and eventually looked away. Vegeta tried to find the best words to express his thoughts but decided the simplest would be the easiest. Carefully, lowering his voice and looking at the young man next to him he asked:

"Bulma is dead, isn't she?"

Mirai knew Vegeta would guess easily and his words didn't surprise him. He took a moment to think, nodded quietly and muttered: "I buried her last month."

"How?"

Another silence followed Vegeta's question. Even in Mirai's timeline Bulma was too young to die of old age. The answer came, short and heavy, loaded with anger and sadness.

"Murdered."

"Murdered?"

"After the fall of the androids some people got bitter." Mirai explained, looking right in front of him at the low hills, far away on the gray horizon. Thin strands of purple hair danced as the wind blew them across his face but he didn't seem to be disturbed. "They were thieves and traffickers and used to take advantage of war time to swindle frightened people and helpless families. My mother was very helpful to the population, about all the Brief fortune disappeared as groceries and medical supplies for the inhabitants. The robbers hated us. When I killed the androids I put a definitive end to their little business and we became their main target. I couldn't kill them all but had no real difficulties keeping them away from our house, they were neither smart nor strong and we had a great security system. But you know how she is… The war was over and the only thing she wanted was to live a normal life again. I left thinking she would stay inside but when I came back..."

Mirai covered his face with both his hand as he swallowed painfully. When he looked up his eyes were hollow and shock dragged down every trait of his face.

"I found her on the doorstep. Covered with her own blood. Dead."

"How did you let them..." Vegeta's voice was shaking. Horror and anger filled his chest as Mirai's words painted terrible pictures in his mind.

"I don't know I… It looked like she had left the house to buy something and they had found her... Of course I hunt them down, I killed more of them than necessary, but it couldn't bring her back. I can't explain why I thought I could leave her alone."

Vegeta silently took in the information. He knew Bulma was the last person to survive with Mirai in his dimension. When he looked at the young man again he saw the deepest loneliness. He was a strong fighter but his sword could nothing against the sorrow that consumed him from inside. He seemed to be in constant and terrible suffering and Vegeta didn't dare imagine how painful it would be if he had himself lost his own Bulma.

"A month ago." he eventually said pensively.

"27 days." Mirai confirmed. "That's about how long I managed to survive without her."

"Not bad." Vegeta judged.

"I hope the guilt will one day fade away but for now I think I'd have killed myself if had had not been able to use the time machine and see her alive again. Of course she's not my mother but..."

"Does she smell the same?"

Mirai pinched his lips and nodded. "Her smell, her voice, her hair... I feel like whatever the time and the dimension Bulma will always be Bulma."

"You can stay with us." Vegeta declared strongly. "As I understand nothing holds you back there."

"Well I've thought about it but… It might sound cocky but I feel like the city needs me. And Capsule Corps is still the largest business, it'd be a disaster if it were to shut down. I don't belong here I can't stay."

"I understand. That's brave."

"Bulma..." Mirai started with a tight throat. His eyes crossed Vegeta's and the Saiyan felt the deepness of his words. "You'd better protect her or die trying because the day she dies is the last day worth living."

xXx

"Woman, the other Trunks has become weak as fuck. I won't let him leave like this, he's the shame of the Saiyans. He'll stay for a few weeks until he can give me a decent fight."

"Really? You still look quite strong!"

Mirai didn't have time to think and Vegeta's severe glance pushed him in the trap.

"Well you know... Now that we're at peace I kind of skipped training a bit too often I guess." He simply answered.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want, but don't let Vegeta boss you around! I'll send a message to your mother to tell her."

"No don't worry, I'll just set the time machine to go back to the day I left the house it'll be like I was never gone."

"Alright then. You can keep the room you were in last night or choose another one. Something tells me Trunks will be happy to have you here a little longer, he has always been a bit jealous of Goten's big brother."

"The room is fine thank you. I might pay a visit to Gohan if he has time this week, I heard he has a daughter, I'm really happy for him."

"I'm sure he'll have time for you."

Mirai stayed at Capsule Corps for three weeks, slowly rebuilding strength and confidence among oblivious but caring friends. He taught Trunks a secret attack that he knew Vegeta had trouble blocking, he congratulated Gohan for his cute family and his impressive career and even had the privilege to fight against Goku a few times, despite his wife's starvation threat for fighting during farming hours. At the end of the third week Mirai joined Vegeta in the gravity room and announced his upcoming departure. Vegeta was about to offer him to stay longer but when he crossed Mirai's eyes he only saw calm and assurance and understood it was time for him to go back. The young man gathered his belonging, said goodbye to the Sons and was soon ready to leave. In the warm Sunday afternoon, the time machine flickered and eventually disappeared, leaving the Briefs alone in their backyard.

"Did he finally become strong enough for your Highness to acknowledge him as a Saiyan?" Bulma asked mockingly.

"He's stronger than me."

"You wouldn't last long without me, would you?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow but admitted that Bulma was also able to understand her future son's troubles. He remembered the young man's words and somehow he knew he was right. Bulma, as a mother or as a wife, was the highlight of this life on Earth. Deep inside he knew his plans for the future had changed the day he had married her. He, who had spent half of his life trying to become immortal, had unconsciously let go his oldest dream, for it made no sense anymore to live without the ones he loved. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her closer before answering sincerely:

"Not a day."


	8. The Attic

Vegeta was almost sure he didn't want to do what he had planned. He had thought about it for a few weeks, tried to find a better solution, but nothing had come to his mind. He would have liked to find another person to talk to, maybe another place to fly to, but remained vain. At the beginning he had acted like everything was fine and had done his best to ignore the problems but every day it became more difficult and the situation was really getting unbearable. After a month, he had decided he couldn't live like this anymore and needed to find some real help. Shaking his head with resignation, the Prince sped up and ignored the cold droplets that glided on his face as he flew through the thick clouds, up in the dark sky.  
Down on Earth Bulma turned in her dreams with a worried frown and rolled on the other side of the bed. The cold sheets against her skin brought an unfamiliar feeling and woke her up. Something wasn't right. Without opening her eyes, she moved her arm across the bed and only felt the wrinkles of the blanket, she understood she was alone. Her heart started beating harder and she quickly sat up and turned on the light. The room was empty. His pillow was cold. She was alone. With a gasp Bulma grabbed the bedsheet, wrapped it around her shoulders and ran to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. There, under the white neon, she franticly examined every inch of her face. Cold sweat dripped down the back of her neck. She was pale and exhausted but after several minutes she admitted she looked just as usual. Her hair was still bright blue, her skin plump and her lips pink. She sighed heavily, only half relieved. She slowly walked back to her bed, brought his pillow against her chest and let herself heavily collapse on the mattress.  
Vegeta landed silently on the Lookout. He knew the green man was well aware of his arrival and was slightly irritated to see that no one had come to welcome him. True it was the middle of the night, but he felt like his visits were rare enough to be taken seriously. He clenched his fists with annoyance and realized he was not wearing his gloves. He had left the bedroom without putting them on. He twitched at his own inattention, walked to the guardian's room and, seeing the light through the windows, he knocked hard enough to make the door tremble on its hinges. Dende's dull voice rose from inside.  
"Come in Vegeta, it's open."  
The door swung open and the Saiyan stepped inside without other considerations.  
"I need you to tell me what going on with Bulma." the Prince said, not bothering with formal greetings.  
"With Bulma?" Dende asked politely.  
"You know what I mean! I know you watch her every day. I know you've noted how she's been lately."  
"How she's been?"  
"Stop it! You know what I'm talking about. She doesn't work anymore, she walks around the house like a ghost, she keeps avoiding me…"  
Yes, Dende knew what Vegeta meant. In fact, he had a bet with Mr Popo on the number of days the man would bear the situation before coming to ask for help. Though the green god had a fair idea of what was going on with Bulma, he couldn't figure out a solution, and so dreaded the Saiyan's visit. He had chosen to believe that faking ignorance was maybe the safest way to get rid of Vegeta.  
"I can't read minds and even if I could I cannot solve your marital problems, I have much more severe issues to take care of." he declared, nodding seriously as to look more confident.  
"This is not a marital problem, this is a Bulma problem."  
"And Bulma is your wife. Fly down, talk to her in the morning and find out what's wrong."  
"It's not that simple. She doesn't want to answer my questions and I... I'm not into these… discussions."  
"Then be good at somethings else. Take her on a trip, get her flowers, buy her chocolates. Humans usually do these before asking God to help them."  
Vegeta swallowed painfully. He was at the same time furious and humiliated. Watching this Namekian talk about his troubles as if it was a meaningless relationship issue when it was ruining his life made him crazy. Seeing the Saiyan silent, Dende gathered his confidence and resumed:  
"Vegeta you can't come here and ask for help every time something is wrong with your family, and I sure know how often you guys are in trouble…"  
Dende didn't have the time to finish his sentence and regret his words that his head was pressed against the wall, a bare hand tight around his throat and a mad Saiyan only a couple of inches away from his face. It was a creepy feeling to be touched by the man without his gloves. Dende could feel Vegeta's muscles against his neck, his powerful fingers digging into his skin, a thumb solidly pressed against his jaw.  
"Listen close you green slug." Vegeta growled through clenched teeth. "Bulma is the reason you are here today. Without her your disgusting people would have stayed on your pathetic planet and disappeared with it. She welcomed you all in her house and gave you a new planet. Without her we both would be dead and pulverized in billions fucking pieces in outer space. Maybe you should try and reconsider the amount of time you are willing to spare her now that you are the Guardian of her planet."  
Dende was sweating a weird yellowish liquid and Vegeta let him fall on the floor with a frown as soon as he gave a little nod of understanding. The Namekian shakily got up and dusted is tunic.  
"I did see that she was melancholic." he said, massaging his painful neck, "She's troubled but I don't really know why."  
"I haven't killed you yet but I don't really know why." Vegeta answered, baring a row of threateningly sharp fangs in a mad smile.  
Dende was just about to pass out and quickly leaned against the table to regain composure.  
"Well I do know that she's been talking with her friends and she seemed to have a lot of questions."  
"Her friends?"  
"Goku and Krillin's wives."  
"Why would she need those women's answers? She's not like them, Bulma is far above those housewives. Kakarott's wife has been stupid enough to marry him and the toaster lives with a midget. What could she be asking them?"  
Dende felt Vegeta's impatience grow and tried to lead the conversation to a safer conclusion.  
"How long have you been living with Bulma?"  
"I don't know, it's not the point here. What did these women talk about?"  
"How long?" the god insisted.  
"What? 10 years maybe? 12? Did I forget an anniversary? Is that it?"  
"Vegeta, you've been married to Bulma for 27 years."  
"Bullshit."  
"Take off your ring"  
Vegeta had almost forgotten he was wearing it. After all these years it had become a part of his body. It was slightly deformed due to his rough life but it was there. He had to wiggle it around his knuckles to slide it off his finger and realized it left a deep mark in his skin. The slug was right. The date engraved inside the ring attested that he had been married for 27 years, 8 months and 5 days.  
"So what?" he said after contemplating his ring for a few seconds, still slightly dazed.  
"Bulma… Unlike you she cannot forget 10 years of her life so easily. She is starting to fear the passing of time."  
"Fear what? What could she be afraid of? A new threat?"  
"She isn't scared of a physical threat. She is terrified by ideas and concepts."  
"What the hell does that even mean? Is she becoming crazy?"  
"No, she's not. Humans often worry about things that are uncertain."  
"Tell me more." Vegeta asked seriously.  
"I can't. I've already helped you much more than I should have. Speak with her."  
"I told you she doesn't want to speak to me. Tell me what she talks about with her friends or I'll go and ask them myself. I really wonder what will happen if I annoy Kakarott's wife… It's been a while since we last fought seriously on this planet."  
Dende turned a delicate shade of kaki and remembered how complicated it was to deal with Saiyans when they decided to fight and blow the whole planet on their way. Resigned, he looked at the clock and pinched his lips.  
"Follow me" he eventually muttered, "but don't make a noise, Mr Popo is going to kick me off the Lookout if he catches us. Plus, I don't really know if he actually sleeps or just stays in his room during the night."  
"You've been living here for 30 years and you don't know if he sleeps?"  
"He scares me." Dende cut short as an explanation.  
Vegeta followed the green god through several corridors and stairs under the main room. Dende stopped in front of a heavy door. He slowly turned the handle and they both came in silently. The room looked like an attic. It was filled up to the high ceiling with hundreds of objects, most of which were completely unknow to Vegeta. Among the strange accessories and contraptions, he saw the Sheron statue that Dende had once used to revive the dragon. In the very back he could see what looked like one of the giant time turners that were in the room of spirit and time. After a minute of looking around he was convinced he had found at least two of the dragon balls covered with dust under different clothes and books.  
"This is one of Baba's crystal ball." Dende suddenly declared, stopping Vegeta's thoughts as he emerged from one of the cluttered alleys in a cloud of dust. "You can see the past, the present and the future. I'm totally not allowed to use it, she said it would influence my ability to be a fair guardian. Besides, the future always changes. Its only real purpose for us is to see the past. I can't look in there myself, as I say it's forbidden and I…"  
Vegeta kicked the god in the knee and made him fall on the floor as he seized the crystal ball.  
"There, you didn't use it, I stole it from you." the Saiyan grumbled with impatience.  
"Thank you." Dende whispered painfully from the floor.  
Vegeta looked at the large globe with suspicious eyes, wondering how he was supposed to use it. As to answer his question the fumes in the ball moved and showed exactly what his heart needed to see.  
Bulma was in the Son house, sitting at the kitchen table as Chichi poured steaming tea in the cup in front of her.  
"Do you ever think about it?" his wife asked.  
"Well no... Not really. I never really thought about it before because I was so busy with the children and he wasn't here with us so it didn't matter." Chichi answer with a shrug. "And when we got married we didn't even know that we were different. He keeps reminding me that we don't live in the same world so I don't really worry about what happens next, you know. I know he'll do just fine."  
"Do you think they will do fine?"  
"Why not? They lived before us, they will after us as well." Chichi stated.  
"But what if… What if Vegeta wants to live like he did before?"  
"Then Goku will kill him."  
"That's not… what I wanted to hear." Bulma admitted painfully.  
"Sorry." Chichi said without a hint of remorse.  
"Don't you ever worry about him seeing you age and become senile?"  
"You know I don't like Vegeta but he is not an idiot. He was certainly well aware that you would be aging faster than him and yet he agreed to marry you. You should talk about this with him if it makes you so anxious, seriously you look terrible."  
"No I don't want to tell him about this, he would just think I'm a stupid human, it's so futile…"  
"I really think he doesn't care about you aging, Goku doesn't even know my age."  
"Maybe I should tell him to leave me before I become old and sick, I don't want him to see me like this… I could build him a spaceship so he could start a new life..."  
"Oh my God Bulma what are you talking about? How do you even dare talking like that after over 20 years of marriage!?" Chichi yelled, throwing her dishtowel over her shoulders and waving the teapot in the air.  
"Chichi I'm sorry, I feel like I don't know anything anymore…" Bulma whined as she covered her face with her hands.  
The fumes in the ball changed and a new scene appeared to the Prince. It was in his own living room. Bulma was sitting on the couch, her arms around her legs and her chin on her knees in a childish pose she would only do at home. Her guest was in the armchair, eating a cookie.  
"How will it be after him?" Eighteen repeated, "I don't know. I may join my brother, I think he has a job as a ranger now."  
"But… What about when he becomes old? What when you will be married to a 85 year old?"  
"Haha I never really think about it, I can't stop time, aging is inevitable so it's pointless to worry about it." Seen that Bulma was nowhere near finding her answer funny she added: "You know, just because I will longer than him doesn't mean I will forget him. Krillin changed me in a way only you can understand. He made me a better person, he gave me another chance just like you did with Vegeta. How could I forget this? How could the father of my child become an anecdote in my life, even if I lived three hundred years?"  
"I don't think Vegeta can get this emotional, I.. I'm just a human he met and spend a few years with…" Bulma said as she awkwardly twisted her fingers together.  
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure there's a heart somewhere underneath his armor, I think I heard it beat once."  
The scene dissipated and the crystal ball went clear.  
Vegeta blinked several times, his mouth slightly open and his breath short. For a reason he didn't quite get, knowing that Bulma planned another life for him after their marriage made him terribly upset. They never talked about how they were aging at a different rate and, although he had understood it at the very beginning of their relation, he had since been doing very well at never thinking about it. He now realized he had almost forgotten this fact and reality struck him like a punch in the guts. For a second he panicked: was it happening now? Would Bulma soon disappear? As his heart rate grew stronger he quickly looked at the crystal ball and the fumes reappeared to show his wife curled up on their sofa. Her eyes were deep and her eyebrows sad but she was nowhere close to being old. Her traits were still fine and delicate, her skin soft and clear and her cheeks round and high. His eyes stopped a few seconds on her lips, plump and red, smooth as ever, and he felt his breathing calm down. Nothing was happening, Bulma would stay with him for a few more decades.  
Her words resonated n his mind. His past. It seemed like these memories belonged to another life. To another person even. The passing years had put a veil on his adventures in space and every day that passed let him forget more of his bloody beginnings in life.  
He knew there was a Saiyan prince who once lost his parents and his throne in a galactic war. The orphan was left working for a tyrant, relieving his terrible pain by covering his hands with blood, fighting against his devastating solitude. That he remembered. The torture that were his years after his parents' death. But somehow the time had worked its wonders and the feeling wasn't as fierce as it used to be. He felt sad for this kid who had had to grow up in such a dark area. That was about how he felt about his own story.  
Now new experiences gradually replaced his gory moments. The open wound in his chest left by his parents had somehow been patched up. He wasn't consumed by his loneliness anymore. He tried to find more pictures of his past life in his memory, as to convince himself that all wasn't just a bad dream or a sad story he had read, but he didn't recall much. Focusing on rewinding time he dug up striking recollections.  
He was in a small room with plain white walls. The light was harsh and the corridor noisy. Everything in this place made him uncomfortable, irritated or disgusted. He wished nothing but to leave the building as soon as possible. Yet he remembered this moment as one of the happiest of his life. Had he had to describe hope, he wouldn't have found a better experience. He was standing beside a hospital bed, bent over a woman with blue hair who was holding a tiny baby. His son. He, who had thought his reason to live had ended the day his planet had exploded, had had a feeling of pride and achievement he had never known before. For over thirty years he had believed he would have a lonely and resentful death and would take his race with him to the grave, but there he was, holding his newborn. Nothing mattered anymore, his violent past, the fact that she was a human, the unplanned pregnancy, nothing. No, his brain couldn't possibly make up a story in which such a terrible background led to this kind of pure and blissful moment.  
Without a word he gave the crystal ball back to Dende and left the room. The green god followed him, knowing well that Vegeta had absolutely no idea of what he would do. The Saiyan wore a neutral face that was utterly unusual. His eyebrows were not furrowed. His teeth were not clenched. His dark eyes were looking nowhere and his arms flapped awkwardly at his sides as he walked back up to the main room.  
"I could find the dragon balls and make her live as long as me." Vegeta eventually suggested.  
"You could." Dende confirmed.  
"But?"  
"This decision is not yours to take."  
"Why would she disagree?"  
"Your children grew up at a human rate. Asking Bulma to live two hundred years with you means asking her to live on after her children's death."  
"I will ask for my whole family to live longer then."  
"You children have built families with human mates, they wouldn't want to live over a century either."  
Vegeta let out a frustrated growl.  
"What should I do? What should I tell her? Would she even believe me if I told her that I don't care about her age?"  
"I... I don't know. You should definitely give it a try but I can't promise you that she will stop moping around about it."  
But Vegeta had never been a man to talk his problems out. He left the Lookout without a word for Dende and flew down back into his bedroom. There he undressed and lay on his bed. He realized his pillow was gone and rolled on his side to look at his wife. Her breathing was soft and regular but she was holding the pillow tight against her chest. Vegeta tugged on the comforter and wrapped his arm around her as he nested his head in the nape of her neck. Her skin was soft and her scent numbed his brain to sleep.  
In the morning Bulma woke up to find herself once again alone in her large bed. She could have sworn she had felt his warm skin against her body during the night and decided to get up and find him. She tied the belt of her dressing gown, put on her slippers and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. But Vegeta was nowhere to be found. It was quite common for him to disappear from time to time and as long as it wasn't for more than a couple of days and didn't mess her planning she used to be fine with it. Yet now every time he left the house she caught herself wondering if he would ever be back. It was ridiculous and she knew it but still couldn't help it. She remained alone the whole day, every hour increasing her fears and her loneliness. It's only when the night had already covered the city that Bulma had a reason to stop worrying alone. Through the thick curtains, rays of bright light suddenly illuminated her living room like day light. She threw her coat over her dressing gown and ran in her garden in her slippers. There, the halo of a giant dragon blinded her and it's through her squinted eyes that she realized Vegeta's figure was standing in front of her, cut like a shadow in the light. She quickly walked up to him and grabbed his arm.  
"What are you doing? Is this what you've been up to all day? Gathering the balls?"  
"Gathering the balls took me about half an hour, including twenty minutes because Mr Popo didn't want to give me the ones he keeps in his attic."  
"Mr Popo has an attic? How would you know that?"  
"Bulma, I know why you've been so worried lately."  
"No, it's nothing, it will pass."  
"It's not nothing. It changes you, you're not the Bulma you used to be anymore. It can't live with this."  
"I know, I'm so sorry… You can leave if you want to, I won't make a scene… But why did you have to summon Shenron for this?"  
"I'm not leaving you anytime soon. I don't want you to think you're just an episode in my life and that I will move on and forget you. I didn't really listen but I think when we got the rings something was said about being a couple till death do us apart."  
"I won't have you stay with an old and sick woman, I just can't accept it."  
"What if we grew old together?"  
"Oh no please you can't ask Sheron to make me live two hundred years I wouldn't be strong enough…"  
Vegeta interrupted her as he talked to Sheron with a strong voice:  
"Shenron! Here is my wish: from now on I want to age at the same time as Bulma. I want to grow old like a human."  
Bulma opened wide eyes and let out a scream, waving her arms violently in front of her as to tell Shenron to cancel the wish.  
"How can you make such a stupid wish! It's not a game! It will be granted! Oh no please, use another wish, don't do it!"  
Vegeta put an arm around her waist and brought her closer to look at her in the eyes.  
"Listen, I've thought about it a lot. After finding the dragon balls this morning I spent a week in the hyperbolic time chamber. I've made up my mind now. Nothing I could do here would be enough to grant me a place in Heaven. I could spend my next hundred years protecting the Earth and saving humans and still be damned. I've traveled through outer space, I've waged intergalactic wars, I've been a Prince and a prisoner, a tyrant and a slave" he declaimed vehemently, "and as if it was not enough, I've been brought back to life to build a family and raise my own children!". He resumed with a slower voice: "Bulma, I've already died as a monster and again as a father, what could I do more?"  
"You don't deserve this…"  
"I already have much more than I deserve and you know it."  
"But the Earth…"  
"Kakarott will protect your planet for the next generations, and our children and grandchildren will be able to defend themselves."  
"Why would you do that?"  
Because he didn't want to be alone after her death. Because he couldn't bear the mere idea to see her leave him. Because Hell couldn't be worse than living without her.  
"Because I decided so. I'm not going back on it."  
Sheron's deep voice rose again: "Your wish has been granted. What is your second wish?"  
Vegeta looked at Bulma, as if he expected her to make a move. She understood he was giving her the opportunity to cancel his wish if she wanted to. Without looking away from his eyes in which she saw nothing but determination, Bulma muttered slowly: "We don't have any other wish to make. Thank you Shenron."  
As the dragon disappeared and the darkness of the night fell over them they silently held each other for long minutes, both taking in the fact that they would never again be alone in this world.


	9. The Stronger One

Gohan stopped a few feet before the corner of the street and the lights of the street lamps. He couldn't fly as he was hiding the energy he had left and had to slowly walk the terrible way back to the Capsule Corps building. Despite the windows being dark, he knew Bulma was waiting for them behind the curtains and she would notice them as soon as he would appear at the corner. The city inhabitants respected a survival blackout, and lived in the dark after the sunset so that it was impossible to tell whether a house was abandoned or not. Everybody did everything they could not to attract the wrath of the androids.  
Gohan's throat was tight. He wished he could stay there a bit more, hidden by the thuja edges in the shadow of the night. These last few steps were the most difficult. The weight he was carrying was too heavy. Not that his strength was insufficient, at sixteen he could already lift a whole building and his arms were iron, but his heart was not tough enough. In fact, it was melting miserably through his ribs with every second that passed. His chest would soon be painfully hollow, empty of any kind of feeling that might have once filled it. He had already lost his father, his mother and even his mentor and with each death his body had become closer to a dry shell. Now whatever used to make him a sensitive human being was gone, like ashes blown by the wind. He wondered if his heart could stop beating under the pain and distress. He swallowed with difficulty and blinked several times to clear his vision from the tears that had come up.   
Bulma waited anxiously at the window, her neck sore from the position she had to hold to see between the blinds without being seen herself. It had been too long. They always came back before the night. She sat silently, listening to any sound that could indicate their arrival. Sometimes she would see something move in the dark and she would straighten, ready to open the building for them, but so far it had only ever been a stray cat or a crow. She was lost in her thoughts when she saw Gohan appear at the end of the street. Bulma gasped when the light fell over the fighter and revealed the full extent of the scene. Gohan was walking carefully, slowed down by the body he held in his arms. She felt her heart sink in her stomach and her brain shut down. She didn't want to think. The teenager went down the street, trying to move as little as possible for the man he was holding in front of him against his chest, one arm under the knees and one behind the shoulders. The head rested backward over his arm, spiky hair standing out like a black flame in the dim light. Bulma jumped from her spot to prepare the infirmary. Even with the distance and the thickness of the night she couldn't be mistaken. Gohan was carrying Vegeta back home.  
The men arrived a few seconds later and Gohan found Bulma already at work, giving him her back as she prepared scalpels, surgical pliers and bandages.  
"Lay him on the table!" She ordered without looking at them.  
The teenager walked in and precociously laid the inanimate body on the operating table, his mouth too dry to say anything. He watched a disheveled Bulma run around the room, grabbing syringes and blood pouches and throwing everything on a metal trolley. His eyes were not used to the bright lights and the scene was like a blurry hallucination, leaving him in true bewilderment.   
"Gohan please, go a get a mop and make sure to wipe the blood on the floor I don't want to slip." Bulma said as she fumbled in a drawer for some gloves. She found them and finally turned back to realize that Gohan had not moved an inch. His gaze went from the agitated woman to the perfectly still body on the table. The harsh light of the room made it look painfully grotesque. Vegeta’s head was tilted to the side, his mouth slightly open and his expression unusually relaxed. His Saiyan armor was gone and his blue suit was torn apart, soaked with blood and revealing the bruised skin underneath. One glove was missing. His boots where almost hidden under the mud that covered him up to the knees. His left side was terrifyingly crushed inward, leaving a wide void where his heart was supposed to be. Gohan desperately wanted to look away but couldn’t take his eyes off it. He had to make sure it was real.   
"What are you still doing here?" Bulma snapped, irritated by his slowness as she moved closer to the central table and looked down at the trolley.  
"Bulma..." Gohan managed to utter.  
"I said get the mop! Now!"  
"Bulma..." he repeated, unable to say more.  
"WHAT" she shouted as she raised her head and gave him a fiery look. She saw how pale he was, how his eyes were dark and hollow and sweat ran down his neck. His hands and forearms were painted with blood that was not his own. The teenager didn't seem to understand what she was doing, he was observing her with the deepest incomprehension. But she didn't pay attention. She didn't want to.  
She looked briefly at Vegeta, quickly enough to avoid seen the truth that burned her eyes, and put on her gloves, ready to begin. She extended her arm to take the first scalpel but was stopped in her movement when Gohan grabbed her wrist firmly. He had finally recovered control over his body and mind and was standing behind her. He was young but he had had to grow up quickly. It was as an adult that he looked down on her with a severe face.   
"What are you doing?" she asked incredulously.  
"Bulma," Gohan said with a quiet voice, "It's been over half an hour."  
"So what? Let me clean the wounds and see what's going on." She pretended.  
"It's too late and you know it."  
"Too late for what? Let me go! Let me work!" she exclaimed as she tried to free her wrist.   
Too late to restart a resting heart. Too late to bring him back. Her brain knew it. She had known it the moment he had appeared at the corner of the street. Why would Gohan have walked so slowly if there had been the tiniest chance to save Vegeta?  
"It's over, Bulma."  
"Shut up you idiot you know nothing go away I need to focus!" she spat aggressively as she swung her arm in the air in an attempt to hit him. Gohan dodged the move and circled her chest with his arms, blocking her elbows against her sides. He pulled her away from the table and the body resting on it. She struggled violently and started to scream.  
"GOHAN I'LL KILL YOU LET ME TRY"  
The teenager tightened his grip around her.  
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU DON'T YOU DARE"  
He clenched his jaws, hoping to be strong enough to get through what was coming. Praying to be the stronger one.   
"HOW DARE YOU DIE ON ME YOU ASSHOLE" Bulma shouted as loud as her lungs would make it. Gohan remained still as she kicked his legs like a fury and tried to lean forward to curse at the dead man in front of them.  
"VEGETA SON OF A BITCH YOU HAVE NO RIGHT"  
Her voice was getting hoarse as she screamed her heart out.  
"YOU'RE NOT LEAVING ME ALONE WITH YOUR FUCKING CHILD HOW CAN YOU"  
Gohan pressed his eyes closed as if it could prevent him from hearing any more of it. Each word echoed achingly in his empty shell. He could feel her pain in each sentence as if it was his own.  
“I FUCKING CARED ABOUT YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT”  
Still holding her, the teenager lowered his head against the back of her neck and waited for the crisis to be over. Soon she stopped struggling against him and her screams became incomprehensible sobbing and moans. Burning tears ran down her face and thin strands of blue hair were stuck to her wet cheeks.   
“I can't… Without you… I thought you cared… “  
Her mouth remained slightly open when she stopped talking. Her lips trembled and she had trouble breathing, her body jerking from time to time with a new gush of tears. Gohan held her up when her knees became weak and she eventually stopped supporting her own weight. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor where she lay on her side and cried on his lap until she passed out from exhaustion.  
xXx  
Bulma woke up on her couch with swollen eyelids and dark blood stains on her lab coat. She contemplated lying there forever, accepting a life of emptiness and not moving until her premature death. She looked at the grey ceiling for a while, hardly even breathing, as if none of this was real if she didn’t want it to be.  
A noise from the kitchen took her out of her lethargy. She felt a new spike through her chest as she remembered Gohan. Quickly, she jumped from the couch and joined him. The teenager was sitting at the table with a large mug of coffee. He was still in his battle outfit, he had merely washed away the blood on his hands. It seemed he hadn’t slept all night. Shame crawled up to the root of her hair. When he saw her, he stood up abruptly and immediately started talking at a fast pace:  
“Trunks woke up I fed him and he went back to sleep but I think he needs a diaper change I couldn’t remember where your room was so I laid you on the couch I’m sorry if it was uncomfortable I tried to…”  
“Gohan” Bulma interrupted softly. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed down for him to sit. Given that he was already leaning against the table to stand, he let himself fall back on his chair. She sat next to him and continued:  
“I’m sorry that you had to see this. I should not have let myself go in such a way. I should have been the adult in the room. Thank you for what you did, I will take care of you now.”  
Gohan looked in her eyes for a moment, unsure if she was really ready to be in charge. He saw sad but caring eyes. Soft like his mother’s. He sniffed loudly and nodded, before resting his face on his hands and his elbows on the table.  
“Have a shower and go to sleep.” she said before brushing his hair back and kissing him lightly on the temple. He sighed at the warmth of the human contact. She stood up and was about to leave the room when Gohan said:  
“He… He is in the cold room.”  
“Thank you.” she whispered.   
xXx  
Bulma had a shower, put on clean clothes and made sure Gohan was getting some rest. She silently had a look in his room and found him fallen flat across his bed, still dirty but sound asleep. Baby Trunks was oblivious to the recent events and welcomed his mother with a warm smile. Bulma took care of him as usual but eventually cradled him against her chest for so long he began to fuss. Would she be able to raise him on her own?   
After her second cup of hot and comforting coffee, Bulma gathered her remaining will and walked down to the infirmary. There, she fought the need to run away from the white lights and the sterile smell that had surrounded her nightmare and already brought back fresh memories. She found the strength to actually look at Vegeta as she rolled the operating table back to the center of the room. It was just as painful as she had expected it. She took a short break outside the infirmary to recover and compose herself. She would take care of him one last time.  
With a damp cloth, she began to clean his face gently. She wiped the sweat off his forehead, lightly brushing stray hair away from his temples. She dabbed the blood at the corner of his mouth with the greatest care and mildly touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers to close his lips together. She made her way down his chest, cutting away the remaining fabric of his suit to rinse the dirt and the blood that covered him. She stitched the largest wounds and bandaged to others like she would have done on a living patient. She took off his boots and placed them next to his single glove on a tray. Muscle after muscle she cleaned his entire body with delicate affection. Once she was done she dressed him in a new, unused blue suit and immaculate gloves and boots. As for the armor, only remained his old one, the one with the golden shoulder pads. Bulma thought it suited him just fine. She admired her finished work for a few seconds, placed his hands together on his stomach and sat down at his side. That was it. The last memory she would ever have of him. It was time to say goodbye.   
“He looks like he is asleep.”  
Gohan’s voice broke her silent contemplation and she raised her head to look at him. He was fresh out of the shower. He walked up to her and stood beside her. His eyes were puffy as well. She leaned against his side. Placing a protecting arm around her shoulders he added:  
“He has never looked so peaceful.”  
“I know.” Bulma smiled tenderly, “I hope he actually is.”


	10. Getting older

« This is definitely not a good idea » Trunks muttered in the dark.  
“Yes it is!” Bulma answered with confidence.  
“We are all going to die.”  
“Come on Trunks! Cheer up!”  
“Mom why are we hiding behind the couch?” Bra’s tiny voice asked.  
“I told you, we are going to surprise daddy.”  
“And get blasted into oblivion in the saddest PTSD attack know to man.” Trunk said, shaking his head with dread.  
“Shut up already, he will love it!” Bulma whispered quickly.  
“Last year he destroyed the toaster after he got scared by the toasts jumping out of it. “  
“I’m telling you this will be fine, he is over it!”   
“He tried to kill Goten’s dad last week. I didn’t want to tell you but there it is.”  
“I know, he does that every other month.” Bulma shrugged, “They think Chichi and I don’t know about their stupid fights but what can I say, we always see it.”  
“Mom, when will daddy be home?” Bra asked.  
“At any time now sweetie, just wait a bit more.”  
“I need to text Goten that I’m leaving all my possessions to him and that my only regret is that I never got la...”  
“Shhhh here he comes!” Bulma cut with an excited smile.  
They all held their breath as the footsteps became louder, waiting for the front door to open. Much to their surprise the lights were suddenly turned on in the living room, and as they rose from behind the couch, they realized no one was at the doorstep.   
“What the fuck are you all doing?” Vegeta asked behind them.   
They turned around and found him in the sweatpants he wore to stay at home, dragging his old slippers on the floor. He had one hand on the switch and looked at them with wide eyes. There was an awkward silence and Bulma was the first to talk.  
“V… Vegeta? I thought you were training in the gravity room, I mean you always train between 3 and 6pm what… what are you doing here?”  
“I asked first.” he answered.  
“Thanks Dende I didn’t die.” Trunks sighed heavily.  
“Why was the boy ready to die?”  
“Happy birthday daddyyyyyyy!” Bra exclaimed happily as she ran to her father with her arms in front of her, before colliding violently with his legs and hugging his knees tightly.   
“Bulma what is all of this?” Vegeta asked incredulously as his daughter pressed her face against his side with the most innocent affection.  
“Well I wanted to surprise you with a small birthday party but it looks like the secret is out…” she explained with a guilty smile.  
“A birthday party?” Vegeta repeated, “My birthday? I don’t even know when it is!”  
“You gave me your date of birth on Vegetasei and I did some calculations... It appears your birthday is on the 13th of October. You’re officially turning 50 today.”  
“How can I have an earthling birthday when I didn’t even spend half of my life on Earth?” he wondered out loud.  
“Stop complaining please,” Bulma pouted, “I thought it would be nice to spend some family time together… You enjoyed Bra’s third birthday last month remember.”  
“I enjoyed the cake.”  
“I bought a cake for each member of the family.”  
Vegeta bent down to free his leg from his daughter’s embrace and lifted her on his shoulders.  
“Ok for the cake, but nothing else.”  
Bulma didn’t have to be told twice, too happy to see Vegeta agree with her little party. All four of them were soon sat down around the coffee table, stuffing down cream cakes and small pastries and fighting to get the slices with the thicker icing coat.   
“You know” Trunks began before swallowing his mouthful and wiping crumbs off his cheek with the back of his hand, “I thought you wouldn’t like to be surprised like this.”  
“I don’t like it. In fact you’re right, if I had not heard you plot together all afternoon I would have destroyed the living room to kill the idiots hiding behind the sofa.”  
“You’ve got icing on your chin.” Trunks said blankly, unsure whether his father was being serious or not.  
“Mom, can I give daddy my present?” Bra asked as she bounced off the couch to get her gift.  
“I said just the cake and that’s all.” Vegeta growled.  
“Oh please, she spent the whole afternoon on it, just take it.” Bulma said.  
Bra waved a piece of paper in front of him and he took it with apprehension. It was a pencil drawing, the sheet was covered with bright colors and various shapes. It didn’t seem to actually represent anything. Vegeta looked at it with squinted eyes for a minute before looking at Bulma for help.   
“Bra, explain daddy what you draw.” his wife said with a knowing smile.  
Bra jumped on his laps and imperiously took the drawing from his hands.  
“This is you” the little girl said as she pointed at a large dark blue square, “and this is Goten’s daddy” she added when placing her finger on an orange horizontal rectangle. “This is the sun, and a tree here, and a flower.”  
Vegeta raised his eyebrows. It now made perfect sense. It was obviously a detailed painting of an epic battle that could be titled “The Prince of All Saiyans beating the shit out of a third-class idiot”. He nodded seriously in acknowledgment of his daughter’s talent and choice of subject.  
“Trunks, I believe you have something for your father as well.” Bulma squeaked with excitement.  
Trunks sighed and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, before reaching in his pocket and taking out a small card.   
“I know you don’t need anything but Mom really wanted me to find a present so there it is. It’s a loyalty card for this all-you-can-eat place across town. Goten and I are their best clients, they know we empty their fridges every time.” he hesitated for a second before looking away and adding: “We could go together if you want to.”  
“They really let you eat everything?” Vegeta asked, taking a look at the card. Trunks nodded.  
“They have a burger eating contest on Fridays, Goten and I can no longer participate but they don’t know you yet…”  
“Friday it is then.”   
Trunks felt weirdly warm in the chest.  
“Oh Trunks can I come with you pleeeeeease” Bra begged with puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist.  
“You know you can’t Bra, they ruled you out too after you won last time.” her brother answered as he tousled her hair and she crossed her arms on her chest with a pout.  
Vegeta looked at his children with surprise. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was feeling quite proud to be the father of these two.   
“As for me” Bulma said, “I upgraded the gravity room, it now has got a bunch of new features. You will never get strong enough to destroy it this time.”  
“Try me.”   
She leaned against him and whispered in his ear.  
“And you know… I’ve been thinking about this thing you wanted to try…”  
“The thing?”  
“The thing.” she confirmed.  
Vegeta felt the heat of her breath against his neck and turned to look in her eyes.   
“How about tonight?” she purred seductively, holding his gaze.  
“How about right now?” he said as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her against his chest.  
“Could you please just wait for us to leave to room?” Trunks said as he took his little sister by the hand with an outraged scowl.  
“You have five seconds to leave the house.” Vegeta grunted hastily without looking at them, already busy unbuttoning Bulma’s cardigan.   
“Disgusting…” Trunks mumbled.  
“OUT” Bulma shouted above her husband’s shoulder.  
A few hours later Vegeta rolled on the bed to join his wife, who was already half asleep after their steamy session.   
“Bulma?”  
“Hn?” she answered without opening her eyes;  
“I won’t get mad if you throw another party next year.”  
“Anything you want Vegeta.” she murmured in her sleep, her lips still pink and her cheeks flushed.  
With this sweet sight in mind Vegeta lay on his back, crossed his fingers behind his head and decided he was the luckiest man in the world.


	11. Lucky Strike

Bulma ran across the living room, carrying Bra with one arm and buttoning her trench coat with the other, while holding her notebook against her side with her elbow. She had a hair clip in her mouth, planning to put her hair up in the car since she had not had time for a blow-dry. She could not believe Vegeta had forgotten to take Trunks to his sport event before leaving for his training God knows where. She had had to drive her teenager to high school in the early morning before coming back to care for her infant daughter and eventually leave late for the most important meeting of the year. She expected her husband to do the very minimum for the family and he wouldn’t even make it. When she came home that night after a wearying day of work and found the fridge empty, her children hungry and Vegeta slumped on the couch in his dirty suit, she seriously questioned her life choices. When going to bed she muttered to Dende that there’d better be a change soon for the sake of her marriage.

Vegeta rubbed his face against the pillow and tugged on the sheet to cover his shoulder. He was absolutely sure it was far too early for him to wake up. Bulma’s alarm had not gone off yet and no daylight pierced through the thick curtains of their bedroom. Feeling cold, he rolled to sneak against his wife and steal some body heat. He suddenly felt his heart drop down in his stomach. He opened wide eyes and tried to grip the mattress before colliding with the floor in the most ungraceful way. He let out a painful moan and massaged the back of his head with his palm in an attempt to reduce the swelling. He was so irritated to be woken up in such an unpleasant fashion that it took him over a minute to understand why he had fallen off his bed. The reason was quite simple, he wasn't on his bed to begin with. He had been sleeping on a narrow pull-down bed that was built in the wall of the tiny living area he was in. Still on the floor he sat up, stretching his legs in front of him and placing his hands behind him to look around. He knew the place but couldn’t remember where it was from. He stood up and opened the door to escape the cramped room. What he saw on the other side made him understand where he was. It was a space ship. Everything was there, the control panel, the screens, the seats. It was the ship Bulma had built to go to Namek. Vegeta scratched his hair where the back of his head had hit the floor. He blinked several times, walked to the center of the room and touched the buttons of the panel. Everything was real. He shook his head vigorously and decided to go and find Bulma to tell her about his injured skull and vivid hallucinations. 

He didn’t even have time to take a step outside that he heard Bulma’s voice yell in his direction. The sun was blinding and he had to squint his eyes to look at her. He saw her silhouette run toward him and somehow felt that something was not right. When she stopped in front of him his jaw dropped. She was wearing a short red dress with thin horizontal black stripes and a cropped orange jacket. Her hair was magnificently curled and backcombed over her head where a blue band prevented it from falling over her eyes. Her fists were clenched on her hips and anger colored her cheeks. Nothing made sense to Vegeta and he decided he needed to get a bandage for his head before completely losing his mind.   
“Bulma, I need a…” he began as he took a few steps toward her. She cut him immediately.  
“YOU NEED TO SHUT UP, TAKE YOUR FUCKING MONKEY PRIDE AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!”  
Vegeta opened wide eyes at the unexpected insult.  
“Why are you...”  
“HOW DARE YOU COME BACK AFTER STEALING THE SHIP!” she shouted.  
“I hurt my head and…”  
“I SHOULD LET YOU ROT OUTSIDE MAYBE YOU CAN LIVE IN YOUR DISPROPORTIONATE EGO!”  
“Bulma darling please stop screaming obscenities the neighbors will hear you.” Mrs. Brief said as she seemingly popped out of a flowerbed. Bulma growled in rage and left as quickly as she had come.   
“Mr. Prince Vegeta Saiyan?” Mrs. Brief asked shamelessly, “please follow me, I’ll show you your room.”  
Vegeta silently followed his mother-in-law, his instinct making his body tense. She led him to a suite he knew very well. It was a charming bedroom with a large walk-in closet and a bathroom that glimmered in the evening sunset. It was Bra’s room. He didn’t say a word and waited for Mrs. Brief to leave him alone. The room was nothing like he remembered. The walls were gray, the bathroom was cold and the closet was not cluttered with half a million zeni worth of baby clothes.

He lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling for a moment. Out of the windows he could see the city as it used to be when he first landed in Bulma’s backyard twenty years before that. The Bulma he had met was definitely younger than the one he knew and considered his wife. The only explanation that came to his mind was that he had had an accident with the time machine and had been thrown in the past. He didn’t however recall touching the said machine for over a decade. He worried he might also suffer from memory loss. 

His reflection was interrupted when someone knocked on the door. He sat quickly on the bed and let the person come in. With a pang of disappointment, he watched a maid step in and place fresh clothes on the nearest table, before leaving without bowing. Vegeta stood up to take the clothes. It was a gray shirt paired with black pants. He held the shirt in front of him for a second and turned it around to look at the back. It was plain. Nothing shameful written on it. He let the piece of fabric fall back on the table and rubbed his face with his hand. He did not understand why this past was different. Why he had not been thrown under the shower by Bulma and then given a ridiculous outfit to wear. He eventually resigned himself and decided he would feel better after a good night of sleep.

The next morning Vegeta kept his eyes closed when he woke up. He extended his arm on the bed, hoping to touch his wife’s soft body under the cover. He felt nothing but the cold wrinkles of the sheet. He sighed. Today was going to be a long day.   
After a short shower, he walked down to the kitchen where he dived into the fridge as he usually did. It appeared time travel had made him particularly hungry and he took everything his arms could hold before turning around and closing the door with a move of the hips. He saw Bulma walk into the room.  
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked severely.   
“I’m hungry.” Vegeta answered firmly. He wouldn’t be caught apologizing for eating in his own kitchen.   
“You really have no respect for anything, do you? I offer you a place to stay and you steal all our food!” she said angrily.  
“What’s wrong with you Bulma?” he cried out despite himself.   
“What’s wrong with ME?” she exclaimed, appelled.  
Vegeta was about to answer forcefully when another man walked in the kitchen. He took Bulma by the hips to bring her close to him and kissed her passionately. Vegeta froze into place. Anything and everything went through his mind. Killing the man. Destroying the kitchen. Blowing up the planet. Killing himself. But the Prince off all Saiyans just stood there, unable to process the feelings that flooded his heart and paralyzed his mind while his wife was being kissed by another man. Bulma’s cheeks became red with heat. The man eventually broke the kiss and hugged her tightly.   
“Nothing is wrong with you Babe, you’re perfect.” he purred in her ear.  
“Yam’ please stop… Not in front of him…”  
Yamcha detached his eyes from Bulma for the first time and looked around the room before stopping on Vegeta.  
“Oh sorry I had not seen you there behind the table.” he said with a condescending smile. “Do you have everything you need?”. He looked at the food Vegeta was holding in his arms and had a concerned frown when a raw chicken leg fell out and bounced on the table. “Bulma dear, will you please wait for me in our bedroom? I need to talk with our guest.”  
Vegeta watched Bulma leave the room with stupefaction. Yamcha bent down beside him. The human was different from the one he remembered. He was taller, he wore a dark suit and his hair was glossed flat over his head. If it had not been for the scars on his face and his ridiculous sweet words, Vegeta would never have recognized him. Yamcha placed his hands on Vegeta’s shoulders with an unprecedented confidence and began to talk very slowly as if he was talking to a young child.  
“You do not hurt Bulma, ok? Bulma is my wife and if you are mean to her I will be mean to you. Do you understand Vegena?”  
Vegeta was outright convinced this scene was worse than any shock he could receive on the head. It was like each word was worse than the previous one. They were resonating in his head as if he had been hit with a saucepan. He let the food fall on the floor, trembling with a rage he had not felt in a long time, and suddenly punched Yamcha in the face with a loud roar. Or at least he tried to. Bulma appeared between them and he stopped his fist half an inch away from her nose.  
“I knew I couldn’t leave you alone.” she spat, “What kind of savage are you? Do you think you can live in my house in beat my husband? If I see you raise a finger again I swear I’ll lock you in the ship and send you to die in outer space.”  
“It’s ok honey,” Yamcha said, “he will soon learn to be a bit more civilized. It must be tough to come from a planet where they do nothing but fight.”  
Bulma didn’t take her eyes away from Vegeta. He saw a chilling mix of anger and distaste he had never seen in her blue irises. The violence of her words echoed painfully inside him as she added:  
“Don’t think you are too powerful for me, I have strong sedatives you wouldn’t even wake up before dying.”

Lying flat on the carpet Vegeta wondered if he was in Hell. A world where Bulma loathed him and Yamcha could call him Vegena and still walk out the door with his head on his shoulders. A world where nobody cared about him. He shook the thought away. He knew what Hell was like and that was not it. He thought about reaching Dende for help but then remembered the tiny god had yet to be hired in this past dimension. He stayed in his room the whole day, trying to avoid a new horrible discovery. Around 7pm the maid brought him a TV dinner. He felt like a prisoner. It was 4am when he finally fell asleep, after deciding to give himself 3 days to fix the situation, before going on a quest for the dragon balls and asking Shenron to bring him back in his world. 

The next day Vegeta put his plan into action. After a long contemplation at night he had been able to single out a key moment in his relationship with Bulma, and was ready to recreate the scene, in hopes it would bring her to reconsider her marriage with the weakling. He sneaked into the space ship and pondered the best way to blow it up without damaging the nearby building, while injuring himself just enough to catch Bulma’s attention. He sent a small beam through the control panel to destroy the central pillar and let the structure collapse over him. A terrible screech grew louder and louder as the walls bent and creased around the room. A large piece of metal fell on his back but to his great disappointment he was still perfectly conscious and safe after the whole ship had disintegrated on itself. Alerted by the noise, Bulma ran in the backyard toward the spacecraft. Vegeta had a moment of hope before hearing her enraged screams and seeing her arms move in the air in threatening gestures. He took a step back to escape her wrath but his foot rolled over a large screw, got caught under the debris and he lost his balance. He fell over the rubble heavily, his temple hit a sharp steel beam with a bloodcurdling sound and the screams stopped. 

Vegeta woke up without remembering going to bed the night before. Something on his disturbed his breathing. He felt pain in his skull. He blinked and realized he was in his room, his head bound with thick bandages and a breathing mask over his nose and mouth. A paradoxical feeling of pure joy spread through his body. He had managed to injure himself and be taken care of by Bulma. He knew he just had to turn his head and he would see her asleep at the desk, waiting for him to wake up. He was shaking with anticipation when he turned on the bed to look aside. He felt like he had been thrown in icy water when he saw the empty chair. Nobody was watching over him while he recovered from his injuries. He was alone. His heart beat achingly hard in his chest. He took the mask off his nose and rolled to face the wall. He tugged on the comforter to bring it over his head and isolate him from this dreadful world. He had always liked to think that he was independent, that he did not need anyone to be happy and that he could actually fly off at any time if he ever felt like it. It was a way to protect himself, to think he would never suffer the loss of a loved one if he simply did not allow himself to care for anyone. Yet there he was, suffocating under a cover, crushed by the unforgiving truth. The Prince of all Saiyans missed his family so much he couldn’t think about a life without them. 

Vegeta heard the door open and close but did not bother turning to see another maid.   
“Vegeta?”  
It was Bulma’s voice. He sat up so quickly he felt dizzy for several seconds.  
“I’ve talked with Yamcha” she said as she leaned against the door, “We decided that you had to leave.”  
“To leave?” Vegeta repeated with incomprehension. The only place on Earth he knew was the Capsule Corps building.   
“Yamcha found you a small flat, the rent is paid for three months, you should be able to support yourself by then.”   
“How?”  
“Find a job!” Bulma snapped, “Make friends, build a family, live your life, you know.”  
“I already have a family!” he argued.   
“And they are all dead. You have to leave.”  
Vegeta understood it was his last chance to try and go back to his world.  
“I will leave but please just listen to me.” he said seriously. “I know you’ve worked on physics… Time travel, parallel universes…”  
“How would you know that?” Bulma asked with genuine surprise.  
“Because I’m from another universe.”  
“Why would I believe this?” she asked, crossing her arms.  
“You’ve always believed in it.” he affirmed. “Also you sleep with three pillows and you take your coffee black although you think it’s disgusting and always complain about it after the first sip.”  
“Have you been stalking me?” she asked with suspicious squinted eyes.  
“Where I come from we are married, we have been married for over 15 years.” he explained.  
Bulma gasped at his bold statement.   
“I don’t see how I could have ended up marrying you. Did you threaten me or something?”  
“Why would I do that? You proposed to me! You said you wanted to become a princess!”   
“Well, that’s about the only upside there is to marrying you I guess.” she shrugged.   
“We have two kids.”  
“Two kids? With you?” she laughed. “Like, a monkey and a caveman?”   
“We have a boy, Trunks. He has got my face and my power but he has your hair and your character. The other is a three-year-old girl, Bra. She is your exact clone but she tends to take after me for her personality.”   
“Look at you, all moved by your imaginary family.” she teased. “Anyway, I don’t understand why I would have left Yamcha.”  
“You grew tired of him, he was weak and he didn’t deserve you.”  
“Oh but you deserved me maybe?”  
“No I…”  
“How did I even fall in love with someone like you?”  
There was a heavy silence. Nothing could explain why Bulma had one day decided to grace him with her attention.  
“I don’t know.” he eventually admitted. “I can’t explain I… I was just lucky.”  
“If this is the truth I wouldn’t call you lucky.” she said as she shook her head and walked up to him. “I would say you got a fucking miracle.” She bent over him and waved a threatening finger above his nose. “You’d better be taking good care of your Bulma because I’m pretty sure you met the single version of me who can see you as husband material.”

Vegeta got woken up by a loud scream in the dark. His own scream. He sat on the bed and frantically looked around, moving his hands on the sheets to find his bedside table. His fingers brushed past something warm and he twitched. He felt the bed move and someone turned on the light. Bulma was looking at him with a worried look. It was his bedroom. His bed. His Bulma.  
“Vegeta?”  
“I had a nightmare” he said with wide eyes.  
She gently tapped the bed with her hand to invite him closer.  
“Was it the one in which you forget to put on your suit and walk around with your armor over your underwear?”  
“No! It was serious!” Vegeta said angrily. She would never let him forget that time he talked in his sleep.  
“Oh…” Bulma whispered. For someone with a past as bloody as Vegeta’s, a serious nightmare could relate to anything from the death of his parents to the mass murder of innocent children.   
“Was it about… about your life before we met?” she asked carefully.   
“No. It was worse. Way worse.”  
“Worse?” Bulma shivered. “Oh my God Vegeta do you want to talk about it?”  
“I don’t.” After a moment he added: “Give me your phone please.”  
Bulma did not know what to expect but did not want to perturb him. She handed him her mobile phone. He quickly scrolled down the contact list and called Yamcha.  
“What are you…”   
“Shhhh” he ordered when the phone started ringing.  
Yamcha picked up quite quickly considering the fact that it was 3am.   
“Bulma?” he asked with a voice full of hopes.  
“Bulma is busy.” Vegeta answered sternly.  
“V…Vegeta? Wha… What’s up?” Yamcha shyly uttered.  
Vegeta hung up and threw the phone back on the nightstand.   
“Good.” he said before laying back on the bed, taking his wife into his arms and holding her tightly against his chest in a possessive embrace. “I won’t forget the kids again.” he mumbled, “Do your stuff, I’ll handle the kids and the house.” And he fell back asleep before Bulma could say anything. 

On the Lookout Mr. Popo looked at the Namekian standing next to him and shook his head in disapproval.   
“Don’t you think you went a bit too far?”  
“I don’t.” Dende answered smugly, “It was just what he needed.”.


End file.
